Being socially awkward really, really sucks.

It’s one thing to get clammy palms before making a public presentation, or feel pangs of discomfort when you’re trying to make small talk with someone you barely know. It’s quite another issue to be constantly battling with inner anxiety everyday, almost all the time, with like 80% of the people you meet.

I’m not discounting the severity of any unpleasant social situations. Neither am I insinuating that only socially awkward people will feel socially awkward; most people will probably feel varying levels of discomfort on different occasions, depending on the circumstances, environment and people involved.

It’s just that sometimes it’s really difficult to explain to people that you can’t just get over social anxiety. It’s not something you can turn on and off like a tap. For example, if you need to make a speech or whatever, you might feel a temporary spike in anxiety. But after the speech is over, your pulse rate goes back to normal and slowly you forget about how scared you were before. Being socially awkward isn’t that temporal, though. It stays with you even as you grow older and try to force yourself to be a little less self-conscious, a little less reserved. It’s like a seed of self-doubt which germinates as you talk to someone and start wondering if she’s growing bored of your company, as you contemplate contributing to a group conversation but worry about meeting with a frosty reception, as you blurt out a careless remark without thinking and end up beating yourself up over it later on.

As a kid, I was always really shy with relatives. During family gatherings (usually on festive occasions), I’d be fidgeting and trying hard not to make eye contact with anyone unless necessary. When an aunt or uncle tried to make small talk or whatever, I’d just mumble incomprehensible and awkwardly-phrased replies that ended up killing off the conversation LOL. The poor relative would then have to make some excuse to bustle off and make conversation with another cousin hahaha.

So it’s not much of a surprise whenever relatives commented that I was very “quiet”. It wasn’t really that I wanted to be quiet, though…It’s just that carrying on a conversation with them was difficult because I couldn’t think of anything remotely interesting to say or ask.

This would usually be the part where I turn this story around and mention how I have since outgrown my childhood/adolescent troubles, emerging a more confident and outgoing social butterfly. *inject sentimental background music* Unfortunately, I’d have to disappoint you because that’s really not the case. Over the years, I not only grew into my introverted character, but also started perceiving it as a fatal flaw.

Seriously, who wouldn’t want to be bubbly and self-assured? In a society where being charismatic and prominent brings you useful connections and a wide network of acquaintances, being able to interact with others easily is always seen as a prized trait. It ensures that no matter where you go or what you do, you’d always have a lunch buddy or someone to sit around with without seeming like a loner.

Communication skills are so important because they affect so many aspects of our lives. For example, in university admission interviews, the assessors look at how you present yourself. For those held in group settings, they also assess how you get along with your groupmates. Nobody cares if you need time to “de-frost” and warm up to the topic, or require some individualized attention to feel like you can say something without being ignored or interrupted. They want to see you speak out and speak loud, like a vending machine where they can press “be enthusiastic and funny!” and see the product rolling out.

But people are not machines. You can force yourself to mask how you think or feel, but you can’t force yourself to be someone you’re not, can you? Should we even be forcing ourselves to behave in a way that is considered socially acceptable, even if while doing so, we feel like digging a hole and hiding inside forever?

There was this chapter I read in “Quiet” by Susan Cain that I thought was pretty interesting as it dealt with these questions quite directly. It mentioned how we have “core personal projects”-responsibilities or interests which we consider meaningful and are supported by others around us. According to the Free Trait Theory, we do things we normally wouldn’t do for the sake of these personal projects. In other words, we behave against character when we deem something (or someone) to be worth the effort.

Someone once told me that I could always act like a hermit and be damn antisocial if that’s what I’m comfortable with. But in the end, I might not feel as happy as I thought I would be, because I’d be alone without the company of the friends I’d missed out on. That struck me as kind of true, because some of the best memories I have would never have been possible without my interactions with other people. Without friends/companions, there’s a lot less laughter and plain old fun. There’d be nobody to confide in and rely on when you can’t be by yourself anymore.

I guess I’m feeling conflicted about this mainly because university is coming up pretty soon and that means a whole new season of integration. Everyone has been buzzing about the myriad of orientation camps to go to so you can widen your social circle and cushion your entry into a completely new and foreign environment…While I do want to attend these programs and meet new people, I’m also quite wary that my social cluelessness would prove to be an obstacle and deterrence. :(

Being socially awkward really, really sucks.

It’s one thing to get clammy palms before making a public presentation, or feel pangs of discomfort when you’re trying to make small talk with someone you barely know. It’s quite another issue to be constantly battling with inner anxiety everyday, almost all the time, with like 80% of the people you meet.

I’m not discounting the severity of any unpleasant social situations. Neither am I insinuating that only socially awkward people will feel socially awkward; most people will probably feel varying levels of discomfort on different occasions, depending on the circumstances, environment and people involved.

It’s just that sometimes it’s really difficult to explain to people that you can’t just get over social anxiety. It’s not something you can turn on and off like a tap. For example, if you need to make a speech or whatever, you might feel a temporary spike in anxiety. But after the speech is over, your pulse rate goes back to normal and slowly you forget about how scared you were before. Being socially awkward isn’t that temporal, though. It stays with you even as you grow older and try to force yourself to be a little less self-conscious, a little less reserved. It’s like a seed of self-doubt which germinates as you talk to someone and start wondering if she’s growing bored of your company, as you contemplate contributing to a group conversation but worry about meeting with a frosty reception, as you blurt out a careless remark without thinking and end up beating yourself up over it later on.

As a kid, I was always really shy with relatives. During family gatherings (usually on festive occasions), I’d be fidgeting and trying hard not to make eye contact with anyone unless necessary. When an aunt or uncle tried to make small talk or whatever, I’d just mumble incomprehensible and awkwardly-phrased replies that ended up killing off the conversation LOL. The poor relative would then have to make some excuse to bustle off and make conversation with another cousin hahaha.

So it’s not much of a surprise whenever relatives commented that I was very “quiet”. It wasn’t really that I wanted to be quiet, though…It’s just that carrying on a conversation with them was difficult because I couldn’t think of anything remotely interesting to say or ask.

This would usually be the part where I turn this story around and mention how I have since outgrown my childhood/adolescent troubles, emerging a more confident and outgoing social butterfly. *inject sentimental background music* Unfortunately, I’d have to disappoint you because that’s really not the case. Over the years, I not only grew into my introverted character, but also started perceiving it as a fatal flaw.

Seriously, who wouldn’t want to be bubbly and self-assured? In a society where being charismatic and prominent brings you useful connections and a wide network of acquaintances, being able to interact with others easily is always seen as a prized trait. It ensures that no matter where you go or what you do, you’d always have a lunch buddy or someone to sit around with without seeming like a loner.

Communication skills are so important because they affect so many aspects of our lives. For example, in university admission interviews, the assessors look at how you present yourself. For those held in group settings, they also assess how you get along with your groupmates. Nobody cares if you need time to “de-frost” and warm up to the topic, or require some individualized attention to feel like you can say something without being ignored or interrupted. They want to see you speak out and speak loud, like a vending machine where they can press “be enthusiastic and funny!” and see the product rolling out.

But people are not machines. You can force yourself to mask how you think or feel, but you can’t force yourself to be someone you’re not, can you? Should we even be forcing ourselves to behave in a way that is considered socially acceptable, even if while doing so, we feel like digging a hole and hiding inside forever?

There was this chapter I read in “Quiet” by Susan Cain that I thought was pretty interesting as it dealt with these questions quite directly. It mentioned how we have “core personal projects”-responsibilities or interests which we consider meaningful and are supported by others around us. According to the Free Trait Theory, we do things we normally wouldn’t do for the sake of these personal projects. In other words, we behave against character when we deem something (or someone) to be worth the effort.

Someone once told me that I could always act like a hermit and be damn antisocial if that’s what I’m comfortable with. But in the end, I might not feel as happy as I thought I would be, because I’d be alone without the company of the friends I’d missed out on. That struck me as kind of true, because some of the best memories I have would never have been possible without my interactions with other people. Without friends/companions, there’s a lot less laughter and plain old fun. There’d be nobody to confide in and rely on when you can’t be by yourself anymore.

I guess I’m feeling conflicted about this mainly because university is coming up pretty soon and that means a whole new season of integration. Everyone has been buzzing about the myriad of orientation camps to go to so you can widen your social circle and cushion your entry into a completely new and foreign environment…While I do want to attend these programs and meet new people, I’m also quite wary that my social cluelessness would prove to be an obstacle and deterrence. :(

My name is Felicia and my dearest ambition is to bounce on clouds while eating Twix.

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