As a member of the human race, I have experienced countless awkward moments during my lifetime. Most of them have been minor and harmless, but some of them have been moments of big-time, humiliating, and sometimes straight-up epic failures. This year, I (barely) survived one of the most humiliating moments of my life. The following is, unfortunately, a true story (and I have the witness to prove it).

It happened at the end of spring term, right before my second calculus midterm of the year. A few minutes before test time (8:30 p.m., yikes), I took my seat at the back of the large, echoing lecture hall. When the class of about 100 quieted down to begin the test, my stomach grumbled audibly (you may know where this is going). That night, I had eaten a big dinner, and even though I had studied pretty well for the exam, I was still stressed. I thought, Oh no—here it is. Pre-midterm stress gas. Oh please, Lord. Not now. This too shall pass, right? Or, does it have to pass?

By the time the test had been handed out, I realized that there was no escape—my gas was knocking at the door. I thought, I can do this: I have had a lifetime of lady-like training for the proper technique of silently releasing you of your discomfort. I’ve GOT this. When I went to release my the Kraken, I prayed to Jesus that it would choose to be silent. Unfortunately, the beast let out a roar that I’m pretty sure made the building shake. The fart was easily the loudest that I have EVER let out, and I am sure that the whole lecture hall heard it. Though nobody made any obvious visible reactions, I could sense the (well deserved) sidelong glances and judgment. My roommate Olivia, sitting next to me, silently began to laugh. My face turned a deep beet red. Well, I thought, this is awkward.

Unfortunately, due to my awkward nature, I tend to embarrass myself pretty frequently. But I’ve figured out over the years that it isn’t just that awkward things seem to happen to me—I’ve found that I’m just a pretty awkward person in general. Not like the oh-how-cute-she’s-just-a-little-befuddled-today-let’s-give-her-a-reality-show-to-laugh-at-her-adorable-quirks awkward, more like the what-planet-are-you-from-take-a-hike-even-my-friends-are-concerned kind of awkward. My embarrassing tendencies include my nervous stammer (especially when I’m tired), constantly tripping over and bumping into things, frequently saying the wrong thing, dancing which closely resembles that of a marionette puppet, and laughing too hard at my own jokes. So yeah, I’m pretty much an expert on all things awkward. This is who I am. All. The. Time.

Last summer, after a week packed full of particularly cringe-worthy moments, I confided in my mom about my embarrassment. I asked her, “Why do I always seem to be messing things up? I just feel so weird sometimes.” Her response was simple and packed with so much wisdom that it changed my outlook on life. She told me, “Honey, we all have those days. That’s just a part of being human.” The fact is, every one of us humans has at least some amount of awkward in our DNA—some just show it more than others. There’s no point in being so hard on yourself about it.

Awkward is something that we all try to escape, because we perceive that it makes us look bad. But the truth is, awkward is not the enemy—our human tendency to be judgmental is. I think we need to get over ourselves, build up our tolerance to awkwardness and eventually learn how to embrace it. During your life, you will have some uncomfortable moments, but at the end of the day, they really aren’t hurting anyone. We can choose to try to escape our uncomfortable situations and forget about them or we can choose to grow from them and learn more about people in the process. Occasionally, as we did during the test, we can even use awkward moments as opportunities to laugh together, and grow closer because of them. Olivia and I now have an epic story to tell and we still laugh about it to this day.

My concern is that our fear of awkwardness hinders us from doing things that could be making the world better and brighter—maybe we avoid eye contact because we’re afraid of somebody noticing the zit on our nose or we skip the friendly conversation with the old lady on the train for fear of seeming uneducated in the presence of wisdom. Moments of human connection must not be obstructed by our fear of embarrassment. Abandoning my fear of awkwardness has helped me to become more personable because I’ve gotten over my fear of looking foolish. I can strike up a conversation with all kinds of people, which has helped me in so many situations. You can find me chatting with people in line for coffee, dancing with abandon in grocery stores when my song is playing, and talking to dogs in my baby voice—you can’t put me in a box. Chances are, I’d clumsily stumble right out of it anyways.

So please, get over your dread of awkward. Say hi to strangers. Go out of your way to open doors for people. Perform random acts of kindness. It'll be uncomfortable at first, but eventually you'll get used to it. You'll feel more comfortable in your own skin, you'll make the world better in the process.