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A review by rbruehlman
How to Be Yourself: Quiet Your Inner Critic and Rise Above Social Anxiety by Ellen Hendriksen
informative
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
4.0
I wish I had read this book years ago. I used to have absolutely crippling social anxiety--not your run-of-the-mill shyness most people experience, but genuinely, truly disabling anxiety. Ellen Hendriksen <i>gets</i> social anxiety, and nails everything about conquering it that I had to learn the hard way. It's gratifying to see everything I learned written so concisely for other people.
Firstly, Hendriksen tackles the complicated intertwining of introversion and social anxiety head-on. In today's culture, introversion and social anxiety are often conflated. However, as Hendriksen astutely notes, introversion is <i>not</i> social anxiety. Introverts are more likely to be socially anxious, but extraverts can also be, too. Introverts recharge by being alone, but they don't necessarily feel <i>anxious</i> interacting with others, and they enjoy their time with others. Sort of like being at a bar with a lot of noise, you could be having a good time, but eventually your brain is just like "yup, we're done here, time to go home." You tap out, spent. <i>That</i> is introversion. Meanwhile, socially anxious people are not enjoying themselves in the moment. The entire process of socializing from beginning to end is exhausting and anxiety-provoking, and it's a relief to just go home and self-isolate. You're drained from socializing, but it's not because you're necessarily introverted: you're drained because you are on fight-or-flight mode 24/7.
A good litmus test, as she notes, is identifying why you don't want to engage in a social activity. Non-socially anxious introverts will reject an activity because it's just not their scene, whereas an anxious person will reject the activity because they're afraid they will say or do something stupid.
I loved that while Hendriksen applauds the growing acceptance of introversion as a legitimate personality type, she also calls out the twin trend of hiding behind introversion when the real problem is social anxiety. I've noticed this as well. If you find normal social interactions anxiety-provoking and simply chalk it up to being an introvert, you give yourself the excuse to avoid facing the fear and conquering it. It's not that you need to be a social butterfly who loves making small talk or going to parties, to be clear! However, avoiding normal activities makes your world much smaller and more stressful than it has to be.
I've found this very true for myself; I thought for the longest time I was extremely introverted. I found being around other people exhausting, and while very lonely, I also vastly preferred being alone. While I knew I was socially anxious, I also thought I didn't enjoy socializing because of introversion. However, as I got a better handle on anxiety, I came to realize I'm actually more on the extraverted side: I genuinely enjoy being around other people. I wasn't drained because I was an introvert, I was drained because anxiety is draining.
Secondly, Hendriksen notes that socially anxious people get caught in self-defeating behaviors and thought processes they're not even aware of. For as much self-monitoring as socially anxious people do, they're somewhat blind to themselves. For instance, many people with social anxiety ruminate on how they will screw things up before a social engagement, and they excessively rehearse and prepare for the worst. However, it doesn't actually make them better able to handle socializing at all. It actually just heightens their anxiety and primes them to fail and misinterpret neutral or positive signals as confirmation they are messing it up.
Moreover, socially anxious people engage in compensatory behavior that can send the completely wrong signals. For the socially anxious who fear others don't like them, a very tempting thing to do is to self-isolate and limit interactions with others--eat lunch alone, avoid joining conversations, and otherwise keep to yourself. It's not that the socially anxious person <i>wants</i> to be alone; they may really want others to reach out! However, others might think the socially anxious person doesn't want to interact with them! The socially anxious person then misreads that as others not liking them, compounding their anxiety. It's a vicious cycle based on misunderstandings.
I used to self-isolate as well because of anxiety. I remember having an "oh shit" moment one time when I was at a work function and saw a socially anxious coworker hang awkwardly around the periphery, too afraid to join any conversations. She didn't look approachable at all. I knew <i>exactly</i> what she was doing and why, because I'd behaved the same way before, and it really drove home how little we're aware of how socially anxious behavior comes across.
On the flip side, though, as Hendriksen notes, most people aren't actually thinking you seem nervous or awkward, and even if they do, they don't really ruminate on it. Socially anxious people are kind of like teenagers in a sense; they think everyone is thinking about them a loooooot more than other people actually are. I think a good reality check for social anxiety is asking yourself, "If someone else did XYZ, what would be my reaction / how would I interpret that?" If you wouldn't really think very much of it if someone else did the same thing, then other people are probably not judging you or thinking that hard about it.
Ultimately, I think the key for treating social anxiety isn't telling someone it's all in their head or other people like them; it's developing metacognition about your own behaviors and thoughts, and being able to distance yourself from them, and then repeatedly exposing yourself to anxiety-provoking situations. I <i>love</i> Hendriksen's suggestion of giving yourself a role in social situations to help combat social anxiety. Social anxiety comes about in part because you're struggling to deal with ambiguity, but if you provide structure to yourself, it's so much easier to navigate the situation. I personally hate introducing myself to new people and making conversation because it makes me anxious, for instance, but when I consider her suggestion to take on the role of making a new person feel comfortable and welcome, I'm actually sort of excited to talk to a new person? Then it's less about me and my performance, and more about helping someone else feel good. Perspective matters.
Firstly, Hendriksen tackles the complicated intertwining of introversion and social anxiety head-on. In today's culture, introversion and social anxiety are often conflated. However, as Hendriksen astutely notes, introversion is <i>not</i> social anxiety. Introverts are more likely to be socially anxious, but extraverts can also be, too. Introverts recharge by being alone, but they don't necessarily feel <i>anxious</i> interacting with others, and they enjoy their time with others. Sort of like being at a bar with a lot of noise, you could be having a good time, but eventually your brain is just like "yup, we're done here, time to go home." You tap out, spent. <i>That</i> is introversion. Meanwhile, socially anxious people are not enjoying themselves in the moment. The entire process of socializing from beginning to end is exhausting and anxiety-provoking, and it's a relief to just go home and self-isolate. You're drained from socializing, but it's not because you're necessarily introverted: you're drained because you are on fight-or-flight mode 24/7.
A good litmus test, as she notes, is identifying why you don't want to engage in a social activity. Non-socially anxious introverts will reject an activity because it's just not their scene, whereas an anxious person will reject the activity because they're afraid they will say or do something stupid.
I loved that while Hendriksen applauds the growing acceptance of introversion as a legitimate personality type, she also calls out the twin trend of hiding behind introversion when the real problem is social anxiety. I've noticed this as well. If you find normal social interactions anxiety-provoking and simply chalk it up to being an introvert, you give yourself the excuse to avoid facing the fear and conquering it. It's not that you need to be a social butterfly who loves making small talk or going to parties, to be clear! However, avoiding normal activities makes your world much smaller and more stressful than it has to be.
I've found this very true for myself; I thought for the longest time I was extremely introverted. I found being around other people exhausting, and while very lonely, I also vastly preferred being alone. While I knew I was socially anxious, I also thought I didn't enjoy socializing because of introversion. However, as I got a better handle on anxiety, I came to realize I'm actually more on the extraverted side: I genuinely enjoy being around other people. I wasn't drained because I was an introvert, I was drained because anxiety is draining.
Secondly, Hendriksen notes that socially anxious people get caught in self-defeating behaviors and thought processes they're not even aware of. For as much self-monitoring as socially anxious people do, they're somewhat blind to themselves. For instance, many people with social anxiety ruminate on how they will screw things up before a social engagement, and they excessively rehearse and prepare for the worst. However, it doesn't actually make them better able to handle socializing at all. It actually just heightens their anxiety and primes them to fail and misinterpret neutral or positive signals as confirmation they are messing it up.
Moreover, socially anxious people engage in compensatory behavior that can send the completely wrong signals. For the socially anxious who fear others don't like them, a very tempting thing to do is to self-isolate and limit interactions with others--eat lunch alone, avoid joining conversations, and otherwise keep to yourself. It's not that the socially anxious person <i>wants</i> to be alone; they may really want others to reach out! However, others might think the socially anxious person doesn't want to interact with them! The socially anxious person then misreads that as others not liking them, compounding their anxiety. It's a vicious cycle based on misunderstandings.
I used to self-isolate as well because of anxiety. I remember having an "oh shit" moment one time when I was at a work function and saw a socially anxious coworker hang awkwardly around the periphery, too afraid to join any conversations. She didn't look approachable at all. I knew <i>exactly</i> what she was doing and why, because I'd behaved the same way before, and it really drove home how little we're aware of how socially anxious behavior comes across.
On the flip side, though, as Hendriksen notes, most people aren't actually thinking you seem nervous or awkward, and even if they do, they don't really ruminate on it. Socially anxious people are kind of like teenagers in a sense; they think everyone is thinking about them a loooooot more than other people actually are. I think a good reality check for social anxiety is asking yourself, "If someone else did XYZ, what would be my reaction / how would I interpret that?" If you wouldn't really think very much of it if someone else did the same thing, then other people are probably not judging you or thinking that hard about it.
Ultimately, I think the key for treating social anxiety isn't telling someone it's all in their head or other people like them; it's developing metacognition about your own behaviors and thoughts, and being able to distance yourself from them, and then repeatedly exposing yourself to anxiety-provoking situations. I <i>love</i> Hendriksen's suggestion of giving yourself a role in social situations to help combat social anxiety. Social anxiety comes about in part because you're struggling to deal with ambiguity, but if you provide structure to yourself, it's so much easier to navigate the situation. I personally hate introducing myself to new people and making conversation because it makes me anxious, for instance, but when I consider her suggestion to take on the role of making a new person feel comfortable and welcome, I'm actually sort of excited to talk to a new person? Then it's less about me and my performance, and more about helping someone else feel good. Perspective matters.