"Sarah's" Social Anxiety

I’d say I’m a very peculiar person. I have an extensive vocabulary, excel at public speaking, and am burdened by a mind that never seems to stop thinking of new things to do or say, yet I am the worst at socializing. For me, public speaking is situated in an entirely different realm than small talk: when talking in front of many people, you often have time to prepare, time to ease your mind. When in everyday social situations, I freeze up. I’m not able to practice or anticipate what I’ll need to say, and often can’t get the words out even when I can. If you’re a psychologist, you’d probably assume that I have social anxiety (you’d be right). Regardless, attempting to push myself out of my comfort zone to socialize has become my number one priority lately. After all, isn’t that the best way to get better? I’m not entirely sure (you’re the therapist, not I), but I’m willing to give almost anything a try at this point.

You’re probably thinking, “O.K., cool. So you say you’re going to make an effort, but where’s the proof?” Well, the other day I was at Starbucks waiting in line when I noticed that the barista that was about to serve me had exceptionally beautiful hair; it was carefully tossed up into a voluminous, strategically messy bun, and had streaks of caramel blonde intertwined with its espresso-coloured base. I immediately realized that I had to let her know how much I admired her hair—she’d be getting a compliment (and who’s ever mad about that?) while I’d be taking my step out of my comfort zone; one might say it would be a win-win. 

Suddenly, I was second in line. In my head, I began carefully rehearsing the five simple words that would form my comfort zone-defying compliment: I really love your hair. As I approached the till to place my order, I came to the realization that I had overlooked one crucial point: rehearsing my drink order. As I stumbled through describing my version of a caramel macchiato: medium—no, grande—lactose-free milk, less caramel, and one shot of vanilla, I slowly lost sight of the compliment I had meticulously planned. Looking up to acknowledge the inevitable, “anything else?” that followed my excruciating drink order, I caught a glimpse of the perfectly imperfect bun once again and remembered my original goal. I had forgotten my plan, but I remember thinking to myself, “it’s just a compliment, easy-peasy. What’s the worst that could happen?” Perhaps it was the anticipation of getting my caramel macchiato, or the caffeine buzz that I still had from my morning coffee (which, mind you, only increases anxiety, no matter how wonderful coffee may be), but I decided to immediately blurt out, “Hey, I really…” as she asked for my name for my order. How humiliating! I turned red, simultaneously embarrassed about having interrupted the barista and having given up on my compliment, and quickly muttered “Uh, it’s Sarah” before speed-walking away to the pickup counter. My name’s not Sarah, but I was worried they would misspell or mispronounce my real name, and I’d already had enough disappointment for one afternoon. 

Now you’re probably thinking, “So you had an awkward encounter in a coffee shop, big whoop. We’ve all been there.” I don’t disagree, but I want to reiterate how my mind works. Think: a car going 500 miles/hour that abruptly stops instead of blasting through green lights. Not the best analogy, but again, I do often struggle to get my thoughts out right. 

If the Starbucks encounter didn’t convince you of my inability to carry on conversations (despite my ever-busy mind) here’s another situation that I find myself in far too often: online dating. 

Online dating in itself is stressful. The endless swiping, catfishing, and navigating through what seems to be an ocean of cheesy pickup lines can be daunting, to say the least. You might interject here and say, “Well if you don’t like online dating, why do you do it?” Well, ever-critical voice in my head, I think we’re both aware of the extent of my social skills at this point, so I’ll leave it at that. That being said, I don’t like to make the first move on dating sites (you’ll NEVER catch me on Bumble). However, coming up with responses to cheesy, sometimes overly sexual, pickup lines and spams of nothing but “hey” is not my strong point either. 

For instance, I had someone start off our conversation with “I’m not a photographer, but I can picture me and you together.” A valiant attempt at a pickup line, but what am I supposed to respond to it??? My instinct in this case was “Nice to meet you,” to hint at how strange it is to tell someone you’ve just (barely) met that you could picture yourself with them. However, I opted to leave them on read. The problem, though, is that I do that to everyone. This behaviour may seem problematic, especially if I ever hope to find love online (though saying it out loud makes it sound less appealing…), but I truly can’t do much better. Anything I would even vaguely consider saying to my online love interests would be so carefully thought out and revised that it would take me hours to compose a worthy message (by my standards). There’s even been times where I have taken forever to write the perfect message, yet I find myself too embarrassed by the amount of effort and time it took to write it that I usually give up and never press send. 

If it wasn’t clear before, it should be clear now: I’m a woman of many words (in my head, that is), with the social skills of a shy toddler. I've always been this way, and I have a feeling I always will be. But, maybe one day, after lots of practice and reflection, I’ll be able to finally say what I think. For now, this narrative will have to suffice.