Overcoming Social Anxiety
Chapter 11 Preview
Remember a few weeks ago when I softly announced that I’m writing a book?
I want to start sharing some previews with you. Eventually, these passages will be pushed over to a separate section of the newsletter called: The Friendship Formula.
To avoid spamming you, I’ll leave it up to you to go subscribe to that section separately. If you aren’t interested in conversations about adult friendships—how to make and manage them—then this is the last you’ll see me bug you about it.
This passage discusses a tool you can use to combat social anxiety, a huge barrier in the way of making new friends.
Chapter 11 Passage: Breaking The 4th Wall (Social Courage)
Friendship isn’t about luck.
We tend to think of luck as random—being in the right place at the right time. But even luck isn’t truly random. Nobody sitting at home, isolated, ever gets “lucky.”
They don’t get the lucky break in their career. They don’t get swept off their feet by the partner of their dreams. They don’t make friends that help them feel like they belong.
Luck has to be invited.
You must put yourself out into the world where things are happening. If there’s one certainty in everything you’ve read so far, it’s this: for your social life to change, you have to go where change can happen.
You must go out into the world and influence good things happening to you. And that means building your social courage and overcoming anxiety.
Yes, And
My first improv comedy show was in an underground comedy club in Washington D.C. The long, narrow room was packed with tables and barely had space for the performers to walk the center aisle—like a twisted wedding ceremony. I’m not sure if that was the intention.
The first skit they performed required audience participation. The lead performer steps forward to the audience: “We need three words—shout them out!” He called out.
It didn't take long for other audience members, kept anonymous by the shadows created from intense lighting above, to begin shouting words.
“Alcohol!”
The lead performer wrote it down on a small white board that he clutched in his hands.
“Giraffe!”
He looks down to write, starting to plot the story in his head.
“Syphilis!”
He pauses before he can write another letter. He’s holding in his laughter but not entirely surprised. This was the late-night show, after all. He looks back at the other performers, then looks back at the audience.
“Ok, an alcoholic giraffe with a syphilis diagnosis. Here we go!” He shouts enthusiastically as he steps to the side of the stage. The group goes on to perform a hilarious skit on the topic, all completely improvised.
Improv comedy is a unique form of comedy, because there is no prewritten material. Every skit, bit, and joke are created on the spot. The performers never know what to expect from their castmates or the audience.
Improv comedy is also a great metaphor for social anxiety. Anxiety stems from not being able to predict the outcomes of future events. “If I decide to go to that party where I don’t know anyone, will I be able to talk to strangers?” I don’t know.
“Will I stumble over my words and appear awkward?” I don’t know.
“Will I have fun?” I don’t know.
When you can’t predict positive outcomes, it’s equally as easy to assume negative outcomes. If whether or not you're going to enjoy yourself is left uncertain, then not enjoying yourself becomes equally plausible. And that triggers anxiety.
To make matters worse, once you identify potential bad outcomes, you linger there. For example, let’s say you get embarrassed because you misspoke while talking to a stranger. But in your mind, the story ends there. You freeze the frame on that one uncomfortable moment and never let yourself see what might happen next. You’re stuck on the embarrassment of the slip up, never letting yourself escape. But what happens five minutes later when everyone has forgotten that it even happened? We never let ourselves make it that far.
Improv comedy performers learn to overcome their anxiety by following the number one rule of improv: “Yes, and.”
This simple phrase means to keep moving the story forward. In improv, no matter what is said or done, the plot doesn’t end until the game is over. The performers keep rolling with whatever material is given to them, even if that means pretending to be an alcoholic giraffe with syphilis.
In your life, it translates to learning how to trust that you can handle whatever happens and keep moving forward.
You show up at a party where you don’t know anyone, and you feel excluded. That doesn’t feel good. You can either go up and talk to someone that’s there, or you can leave. You either meet people or you learn that it isn’t the event for you. The story continues.
You’re nervous to start a conversation with a stranger. You’re worried that they might judge you. Overthinking causes you to trip over your words. You need to take a moment in the middle of the conversation to compose yourself. Eventually, you settle in and have a normal conversation. The other person doesn’t think twice about it. The story continues.
You show up to the world as your authentic self, and in meeting a potential new friend you realize the two of you don’t click. Instead of feeling judged or rejected for having nothing in common, you realize this was the point of showing your authentic self. You pushed away a person who didn’t share the same values. The story continues.
When you embrace the “yes, and” mentality, you avoid trapping yourself in the moment of discomfort and you give yourself permission to move beyond it. The plot of the story grows, and so too does your perspective on the situation.
This is the secret to becoming comfortable with the unknown. This is how you build your social courage.
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