In this golden age of technology and social media, there are many things I am grateful for, and others that I could go without. I love sending people funny videos, but I despise the hateful comments underneath some. I love being able to recline the seats on a Costco leather couch, but when the seats get stuck, you’re left with an incredibly awkward positioned chair that requires a skillful maneuver to sit in it. No fun. But one thing I am incredibly grateful for is the feature on my phone that will send me “1 year ago, today” memories throughout the week. I scroll through and giggle at my antics or mourn the loss of my once long hair that nearly touched my bum less than a year ago. But those little slide shows and still moments invite me to reflect.
In those pictures, I see a girl who has no idea what is in store for her yet. She likes herself but isn’t ready to spend a night out alone with herself yet, or even 10 minutes in still silence for that matter.
In meditation, I visualize myself sitting down with her. We sit on my bed in the same places I always sit in with my friends when they come over. I tell her about my favorite moment I’ve had this past year, and she starts to look worried. She’s in disbelief that she would ever be able to muster up the courage to play out this memory I’ve described. But we did it, and there is no doubt in my mind that we’d do it again.
I used to say I had horrible social anxiety. Then my explanation turned into I am an introvert. Then it changed into “but those people are probably going to be there so I can’t go”, then it turned into, “I don’t have it in me to go,”. And those are the self-fulfilling bullshit prophecies I told myself for years every time there was something that I wanted to attend. But one night I saw a flyer for a concert that was going on. I liked the bands that were going to be playing, I had been to the venue before (a small little club with blue lighting and a Neapolitan style pizza by the slice Walk-up-Window right next door), and it was a themed concert. I adore any function that has a costume mandatory dress code. I looked at the date on the flyer to see if I was free. To no avail, the concert was that evening. I instantly jumped to “Well that’s a bummer, I guess I can’t go,” and went on with my day. But I couldn’t stop thinking about how fun it sounded. So, I texted my friends one by one asking if anyone wanted to go with me. But no one was free to go since it was so last minute and on a random weeknight. So once again, I excepted my defeat and tried to get excited for another mundane night in. But something in me just wouldn’t let the idea go.
I looked at the flyer once again and read that the theme was Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Like, come on. How could I pass up the opportunity to dress like a whimsical being and dance my little butt off to some punk music. The idea of going alone made me want to throw up. This was an incredibly social scene. It’s a college town so that means everyone usually came to these things in groups of four to five people. A duo was even a little rare let alone someone standing all by themselves. The fear of perception began to wrap it hands around my throat, and I nearly muttered another pathetic, “I don’t have it in me”, but I just wasn’t buying what that prophecy was trying to sell me. So, I put together a costume with approximately an hour before I had to leave, did my makeup, ate a quick snack, and said a prayer asking for courage and safety as I left my house and made my way to the venue. My stomach churned the whole way there. I couldn’t tell if it was excitement or nerves. But as cheesy as it was, one powerful and annoyingly catchy Chaka Khan song revealed to me that what I was feeling was excitement and equal parts empowerment. “I’m Every Women”, came on and I danced in my Subaru like I had tinted windows and an MTV music video appearance. I realized that it didn’t matter what people thought about me when they saw me standing alone in the club, I was going to have fun, and I was going to grow while doing so.
It was probably the most fun concert I had ever been too. I danced so hard my skirt nearly fell down and I was 99% sure I had whiplash. I had also talked to a lot of new people that were super fun and nice. I guess when you’re alone, people are way more likely to come up and talk to you. A lot of people even admired that I had come alone, saying things like “Wow, I’d never have the guts to do that,” or “My social anxiety could never,”. It made my entire night knowing that I got a taste of true confidence, but I also inspired other girls to give it a shot. Life is too darn short to not do what you want to do, and I am way to incredible to not become my own best friend. I think that is why this was my favorite moment of the year. I was there alone and there wasn’t a minute where I felt lonely. I whole heartedly enjoyed spending that night out with myself and letting go of anyone’s perceptions or judgements.
So, I learned I don’t have social anxiety. I am just on a journey of finding my confidence. I also learned I am not an introvert. But it’s also totally okay to honor when I need a break, and my social battery has run low. And yes, the world is small. Sometimes people who don’t like you are going to be somewhere you are. But as hard as it is, I am learning to release the fear of their judgement and hate. But most importantly, my “I don’t have it in me to go,” prophesy has now turned into a conversation that goes a little something like this. “Hey body. How are you feeling. Do you feel healthy and strong enough to go to this? Do you want to go to this? Is there anything stopping you? How can I support you through that?”, and I don’t think that would’ve been the case if I hadn’t shown up for myself and took myself out dancing on that random weeknight in October.