Social anxiety is one of the most common anxiety disorders. An estimated 1 in 10 people may be affected by it.
I struggled with social anxiety for most of my life, but eventually recovered.
It can be a particularly challenging form of anxiety — not because it’s different at its core, but because we are regularly placed in situations that trigger it. This keeps us in a near-constant state of anticipation, and our habitual fear response gets reinforced again and again.
My Story Struggling with Social Anxiety
My social anxiety showed up as intense blushing and sweating. I became embarrassed by how easily I became embarrassed — and deeply ashamed of it.
Almost every day, in ordinary social situations, the same thoughts would run through my mind:
“How am I going to cope with the anxiety and possible embarrassment?”
“Can I cope with it?”
“Should I find a way to avoid the situation?”
Most of the time, I pushed through. But it wasn’t in a calm or confident way — I was tense, and driven by sheer determination not to let anxiety shrink my life any further.
I would force myself through situations with clenched teeth, trying to disconnect from the feelings as much as possible. But all that did was reinforce the pattern.
Afterwards, I would feel drained, low, and defeated — almost like a hangover from a battle. Then I’d slowly gather myself… and do it all again.
No matter what I tried to prevent it or overcome it, the same reaction kept happening.
Nothing changed. And it felt like nothing ever would.
It was exhausting. And over time, it became deeply, deeply discouraging.
Discovering the Way Out
Eventually, I came across the work of Dr. Claire Weekes.
She had suffered with anxiety herself and developed an acceptance-based approach to recovery — one that has since helped countless people.
As I learned more about this approach, I thought about applying it to my social anxiety. Something became clear:
I needed to allow the very things I feared the most.
The embarrassment.
The blushing.
The sweating.
And honestly, that felt impossible.
I resisted the idea for a long time. I hoped there might be an easier way — some middle ground where I could recover without having to let those things happen.
But then I had a realization:
They were already happening.
Almost every day.
My efforts to control my social anxiety and prevent the embarrassment failed. So, what difference did it make if I stopped fighting it?
Even then, it felt wrong.
It felt weak.
It felt like I was giving up.
I worried about what people would think if I stopped trying to hide it. I feared judgment, ridicule — even contempt. In truth, they had no way of knowing whether I resisted or accepted it.
Inside though, it felt like a battle between two voices: my voice of fear, and my voice of truth. It went something like this:
Fear: “You can’t let this happen.”
Truth: “It’s happening anyway. Why keep fighting?”
Fear: “But it’ll happen more often if you allow it.”
Truth: “It may happen more often, but so what?! If this is the way to recovery, then I’ll accept that. If not, I can always go back to fighting it again.
Fear: “But it is irresponsible and shameful to not try to stop it”
Truth: “It’s my choice if I fight or allow it. And shame is a feeling I already get from becoming embarrassed. It’s time to honor and allow that feeling to be felt. Honesty not denial.”
Fear: “What if other people see that you are OK with it? How are they going to judge you?”
Truth: “I need to stop worrying about how others see me. Just be my authentic self and face the world unashamedly. Other people can think and say whatever they want. All that matters is that I can stand proudly, look in the mirror, and unconditionally accept the person I see.”
So, from that point on, I committed to allowing and accepting the embarrassment and all the feelings that came with it as best I could.
Not perfectly. Not confidently.
But willingly enough.
The Payoff
That small shift — from fighting to allowing — changed everything.
At first, nothing dramatic happened. It was still uncomfortable. Still challenging. But I could sense something was changing underneath:
I was no longer adding fuel to the anxiety.
Instead of using all my energy trying to stop it, I began using that same energy to:
- Face it
- Allow it
- Let it be there
Little by little, something remarkable happened:
I began to lose my fear of embarrassment.
And as that fear faded:
- The symptoms became less intense
- They happened less often
- They stopped dominating my thoughts
Eventually, social situations were no longer something I mentally rehearsed and feared in advance.
And over time, my recovery from social anxiety became complete. I lost all fear of becoming embarrassed.
If you’re struggling with social anxiety right now, I want you to know this:
You don’t have to eliminate the symptoms to recover.
You only need to change how you respond to them, by facing them, allowing them, letting them be there. Let the waves of embarrassment wash over you without resistance.
It won’t feel natural at first. But if you persist, gently and consistently, things will change — just as they did for me.
