Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want to Come: One Introvert's Year of Saying Yes

by Jessica Pan

what we should actually fear is being boring and dying having never connected with anyone.

“You seemed so comfortable. Where did that confidence come from?” I’d always imagined that tonight, right before I got onstage, if I did enough prep and work and rehearsal and bear postures, I’d be filled with the supreme confidence to perform my routine perfectly. But self-confidence doesn’t find us: we have to push ourselves to do something hard and live through it, and then confidence will eventually follow. I’d faked confidence and, by doing so, created it. It really did feel like a feat of wizardry. ten Talking to Men, A Real-Life Interlude One night, Sam and I are at a group dinner with some of his old friends and their partners.

“We are purging what no longer serves us.” Staying closed off and saying no to things, merely because I was scared, was no longer useful to me. Staring at the sky, for those brief moments of silence, looking up at the stars, I’d felt like introvert and extrovert were labels that might not serve me anymore.

“The fear of rejection feels worse than the reality.” I respectfully beg to differ. But we can survive the rejection. It’s like food poisoning. You feel fragile and like utter shit, and you don’t want anyone to touch or look at you for about three days, but then you wake up, open the curtains, see the sun, and realize you want to eat ramen and see how much water weight you lost while you were languishing. To make myself feel better after the Cavendish Arms, I go see Crazy Rich Asians and quietly eat chocolate malt balls.