“My social anxiety wasn’t cute introversion. It was this constant monitoring. I’d be in a conversation and part of me was listening, and part of me was watching myself like a camera. “Are you being weird? Did you say that wrong? Don’t talk too much. Don’t be boring.” And then afterwards I’d replay the whole thing in bed. I’d literally get a stomach drop remembering something normal I said.

Dates were the worst because it felt like one wrong move and I’d be “exposed” as awkward or whatever. So I’d either overperform (too nice, too agreeable) or I’d just stay quiet and then hate myself later for not being myself. It was stupid and I knew it was stupid and that made it worse.

What changed was not that I suddenly love crowds. I still like calm environments. But the panic-y body feeling stopped showing up in normal interactions. I noticed it when I was at a small dinner and I realized halfway through I hadn’t been “checking myself” the whole time. That sounds small, but it’s huge.

Now if I say something slightly awkward, it doesn’t become a five-hour punishment in my head. I just move on like a normal person. That’s basically what I wanted.“