How to Be Yourself: Quiet Your Inner Critic and Rise Above Social Anxiety

by Ellen Hendriksen

Underneath all that anxiety, you’re equipped with everything you need. There’s nothing you need to fake, no image to manufacture. You are enough just as you are. Indeed, imagine if that self showed up at work, in relationships, and in the world. What would be possible?

13 percent of Americans will consider themselves what your grandma called painfully shy, but what I call capital-S Socially Anxious. Social Anxiety is the fear of being scrutinized, judged, and found lacking in social or performance situations that gets in the way of doing the things you want or need to do.

Or, for the 21 percent of capital-S Socially Anxious folks for whom nerves manifest as anger and irritability, impairment means sarcastic comments and critical judgment. It means losing friends and relationships by striking out in anger.

With social anxiety come traits and tendencies that will serve you well in a culturally diverse twenty-first-century world (and won’t disappear, even if your fear and awkwardness do).

I will not promise a “new you,” because, believe it or not, there’s no need to change your personality. You just need to see that who you are is already perfectly sufficient.

Fundamentally, social anxiety is seeing our true self in a distorted way and believing the distortion to be the truth.

We worry about our perceived flaws, all while completely forgetting the myriad...

If there’s one thing I know deep in my heart, it’s that nothing is wrong with you. I repeat, nothing is wrong with you, even if you think you’re the lone exception to this sentence.

In his quiet way, Mahatma Gandhi shook the foundations of British imperialism, led India to independence, and inspired movements for civil rights across the globe. He has much to teach us.

In his autobiography, Gandhi devotes an entire chapter to his social anxiety, my adaptation of which you read at the beginning of this book. He wrote that as a young man, “I hesitated whenever I had to face strange audiences and avoided making a speech whenever I could.” And his anxiety wasn’t limited to public speaking: “Even when I paid a social call, the presence of half a dozen or more people would strike me dumb.” Gandhi, who earlier in life couldn’t even give a toast, would, in 1947, give a speech to a live audience of more than twenty thousand people.

There is true power in holding on to just enough social anxiety to give weight and regard to the beliefs and perspectives of others. Call it empathy, respect, or equality—whatever you call it, especially at this point in history, it’s never-more-crucial care and concern for our fellow human travelers.

In his autobiography, Gandhi wrote of his social anxiety, “It has allowed me to grow. It has helped me in my discernment of the truth.”

Anxiety is unquestionably genetic. If you have a first-degree relative—in Jim’s case, a parent—with an anxiety disorder, you have a four- to sixfold increased risk of having the same disorder.

It might have come from growing up in an insular family that didn’t see the point of socializing.

But long term, avoidance is disastrous. It is enemy number one of emotional well-being and perpetuates all anxieties, not just social. For social anxiety to become a problem, genetics and learning aren’t enough—the anxiety has to grow and be carefully maintained. Avoidance does just that, and does it perfectly.

This fear is the core of social anxiety. It’s the sense that something embarrassing, deficient, or flawed about us will become obvious to everyone. Jim feared what I call The Reveal. Social anxiety isn’t just fear of judgment; it’s fear the judgers are right. We think there is something wrong with us, and we avoid in order to conceal it. In our minds, if The Reveal comes to pass we’ll be rejected, humiliated, or exposed.

Avoidance is your brain’s equivalent of a fussy mother hen—it means well, but in protecting you from a situation it inadvertently sends the message that you can’t deal. In shielding you from threat, avoidance keeps you from learning “Hey, that wasn’t so bad,” or, “Wait, nothing terrible happened,” and blocks the resulting confidence that comes with succeeding in ever-larger challenges.

You’ll feel less anxious by living your life.

It’s almost impossible to retreat from the world and reemerge transformed, like a cocoon transforms a caterpillar into a butterfly. Instead, humans learn and change on the job. Put another way, rather than reading about how to ride a bicycle, we have to get on the bicycle. It is wobbly at first. We fall. But eventually our muscles and mind learn. And after that, we never forget.

The point is internal—to grow the skills and the willingness to try whatever it is you hunger to do. To know, deep in your heart, that you are fine just as you are, even in the moments when anxiety might try to convince you otherwise.

“Every time I walk out of the house I still feel that old twinge in my stomach,” he says. “It was so drilled into me. But I know I can get nervous and still do whatever I want.”

You will start off by living the life you want with anxiety—by carrying it along with you. And as you do, surprisingly, the anxiety will ebb away. Nothing will change. And everything will change.

Nature is trying to tell us that the wallflowers and shrinking violets among us are a necessary and beautiful part of this bouquet of humanity.

Evolution keeps behavioral inhibition around because, kept well pruned, it helps keep us safe. Same goes for social awareness. So even though social anxiety isn’t pleasant or useful, its roots absolutely are.

Second, with introversion, solitude makes you feel good. But with social anxiety, it just makes you less anxious.

As you continue on, you won’t become less yourself; you’ll just become less anxious. So let’s lose the social anxiety that’s getting in the way and keep the personality that fits. We won’t change you. We wouldn’t want to, anyway.

Remember: genetics isn’t destiny. The brain, with its genetic programming and evolutionary shaping, influences behavior, but it goes both ways: behavior also influences the brain.

Imagine a line bisecting your head from ear to ear. On that line, behind each of your eyes, lie a pair of neural nuggets collectively known as the amygdala. The amygdala is surprisingly versatile—more little black dress than, say, cummerbund. It’s part of the eating system, sex system, addiction system, and while it is not the only part of the brain responsible for handling fear, it is the linchpin of the fear system. It receives sensory information—the sight of a snarling dog, the sound of a bus hurtling toward us—and jump-starts a reaction. It’s our fire alarm, designed to detect and respond to threats.

Put your hand on your forehead as if checking for a fever. Directly beneath your palm is your prefrontal cortex, the part of your brain responsible for, well, responsibility, and higher-order thinking in general. It plans ahead, works toward goals, makes decisions, and suppresses unacceptable, NSFW urges. What’s more, specific areas of it can talk the amygdala down from its social freak-outs.

But for us socially anxious types, our prefrontal cortex isn’t as adept as our non-anxious friends’ at shutting off the alarms. For starters, our brains take a little longer. Let’s pretend a friend hasn’t texted you back. In a non-anxious brain, immediately after the amygdala screams, She hates me! the prefrontal cortex is recruited to calmly propose that she was probably just busy and will get back to you soon. The socially anxious brain can do this, too, but it takes longer—only three or so seconds longer, but those seconds add up to a major difference in how we interpret the world and the intentions of others.

Just as the helicopter parent thinks their child is a special snowflake destined to rule the world, so does your Inner Critic expect great things from you.

Think of a scenario that gives you the social heebie-jeebies. Then let Social Anxiety Mad Libs help you fill it in: When _____________________________________, (SOCIAL SITUATION WHERE I FEEL ANXIOUS) it will become obvious that I am ______________________________________ (WHAT MY INNER CRITIC SAYS IS WRONG WITH ME).

Call it overthinking. Call it obsessing. Call it rumination. Call it the self-rated performance review from hell. Researchers call it post-event processing. Whatever you call it, it’s a postmortem review of the bloopers reel of your social performance.

Clark and Hinrichsen concluded that the main difference between high and low socially anxious individuals is not the effect of anticipatory processing—that’s the same no matter who you are. The difference is that the socially anxious among us are more likely to engage in it.

And this uncertainty, this doubt, is the heart of all anxiety. Whenever we get nervous, it is because there is something we don’t know. Something that’s unsure. Something uncertain.

This is the first tool for that shiny new toolbox: specify. Just like the mantra of real estate is location, location, location, the mantra of overcoming anxiety is specify, specify, specify. Why? Anxiety is often vague: Everybody will think I’m weird! Something bad will happen!

If your Critic is more of a feeling, in order to specify, specify, specify, try this: ask what that lurch in the stomach would say if it could talk. What would the urge to skip out on the wedding reception tell you if it was translated into words? Think of yourself as a cartoon character and ask what the thought bubble coming out of your head would say. Once the thought is verbal, it has a form, which means we can challenge it.

To sum up, when your Inner Critic kicks the anxiety into gear, first ask, “What’s the worst that can happen?” Answer as precisely as possible; remember: specify, specify, specify. Then ask: “How bad would that really be?” “What are the odds?” “How could I cope?”

“You’re working so hard—nice job. Tell you what—try keeping your legs straight; you want the kick to come from your hips, not your knee. Then your whole leg will help you kick and you’ll go superfast! Can I see you try?… Good, you’re almost there. Try it again.… Nice—keep practicing and you’ll be faster than a fish! High five.”

The first coach sounds surprisingly like the Inner Critic. It’s as if they both went to the University of Mean. Yet we talk to ourselves this way all the time. Somehow we think harsh criticism will motivate us, convince us to change, or that it’s necessary to punish ourselves into some sort of submission. And while we instinctively know the coach insulting the kid is wrong, it’s not so easy to realize the Inner Critic is wrong, too. Not only wrong, but ineffective. Telling ourselves we can’t do it, that we don’t have it in us, that we shouldn’t bother trying only makes us want to hide. To conceal. To avoid.

If arguing with our Inner Critic and changing our dire thoughts and fears was Replace, creating for ourselves a supportive environment from which we can try hard things is Embrace. This time, we don’t challenge the thoughts head-on. Instead, we acknowledge them for what they are and give ourselves the psychological equivalent of a warm, supportive hug.

Embrace is simply giving yourself the same support, warmth, and kindness you would get from a good friend or that you would offer a good friend. It’s a little help when you need it the most.

Instead of allowing her child to be indulgent and undisciplined, she would acknowledge that candy sure is tempting and then kindly encourage a healthier choice. Self-compassion is about creating that same sort of supportive, kind, encouraging environment from which you can gather the courage to choose wisely. In short, self-compassion is the opposite of self-judgment. Self-judgment looks for what is vulnerable inside us and pounces, whereas self-compassion looks for what is human and meets it with understanding, graciousness, appreciation, and encouragement.

According to Dr. Neff, self-compassion has three components: mindfulness, self-kindness, and an awareness that we are all in this together, or what she calls our common humanity.

With an existential sneeze, we shift from I am not good enough, to, I hold a belief that I’m not good enough. And that difference is everything. In one astonishing moment of clarity, we shift from absolute truth to merely a thought. And thoughts? They can be changed. Or, to stick with the spirit of mindfulness, simply watched.

Just breathe. Feel your torso expand, and then feel it contract as you breathe out. Notice that the air is warm as it leaves your nose. Then do it again. If your mind has the discipline of a cornered weasel, don’t despair—the opportunities to be mindful of your breath last, oh say, a lifetime.

Self-compassion sees our inadequacies and failures and not only is cool with them but also provides a safe and caring place for them.

Golden Rule—rather than treating others as you would like to be treated, you also treat yourself as well as you would treat others.

It’s hard to talk kindly to ourselves when we’re used to being hard on ourselves. But here’s where the mindfulness comes in again. The sense of, Oh, I’m watching a movie, can be used to watch your anxious thoughts without judgment and allow you to try again.

When _____________________________________, (SOCIAL SITUATION WHERE I FEEL ANXIOUS) it will become obvious that I am ______________________________________ (WHAT MY INNER CRITIC SAYS IS WRONG WITH ME). Now take your feared consequence and ask: “How bad would that really be?” Is this truly a disaster of epic proportions? Really? If you’ve already talked yourself down to less-than-disastrous proportions, you can go right to “How could I cope?” If not, ask, “What are the odds?” What’s more realistic? What is more likely to happen? And finally, “How could I cope?” Think of all the resources you could gather: family, friends, self-care, health insurance, gummy bears; pull out all the stops here!