"So I would really love if you came to [insert event here]!"

"You know I love you and I want to be there, but I'm just uncomfortable. Who's going to be there?"

I would listen as my friend rattled off names, feeling incredibly fake as I listened. I knew, and they knew too, that I wasn't going to come. I hated being like this. I feel like a loser, and I'm embarrassed. This may sound like an isolated incident, but it wasn't.

Anytime in my life I'm invited somewhere, my mind immediately thinks of multiple situations where I would embarrass myself. Maybe no one will talk to me and I'll be in a corner all night, while everyone whispers about me. Maybe I will trip and everyone will see, or I won't find a place to sit, so I'll have to stand and people will look at me.

Usually, I decline invitations, but if I accept, my night is not filled with taking pictures with people for Instagram, or laughing with a fellow party-goer as we trade life similarities. It's instead a thumping heart, feeling like my clothes are too tight even though they are two sizes too big (in fear of my fat rolls showing), and sweating. It is worrying that as soon as I leave the room, people will ask themselves why I even came.

Sometimes, it's not a party situation. I hate meeting new people in general, and try to back out if a close friend of mine tells me they're bringing a guest to our hang out. It has nothing to do with them. I fear this guest will make fun of my poorly covered acne scars, my dried out curly hair, or my baggy clothes. Even if I agree to meet someone new, I am anxious the entire time. I fear they will hate me, and are simply pretending to like me.

About a month ago, my husband asked me to call a mechanic for a price on new tires. I hate calling anyone I don't know. However, I called. I was nervous, but got through the call. Unfortunately, I had to call again for a reason I can't remember. I begged my husband to call another day. I can't call twice in one day. He's going to hate me, the mechanic is going to dislike me for calling so much.

My husband can't speak English, so I knew begging was futile. I called and hung up crying. The mechanic sounded annoyed at me. I sobbed and my husband comforted me. He has had to do this before. Michele is from Italy, and he frequently calls his family on video. I dread the calls. Not because of his family, they are lovely people. But I do not know them very well, and I also cannot speak their language as fluently as I want to.

Once, Michele told me that he was going to the bathroom, and that he was going to leave the video call on my face. I began to tear up. "Please don't," I told him. He relented, and ever since then he knows not to do it. Even when I speak to my new family on video, I can't look them in the face. I can only say hi and that's it. I worry that my husband's family doesn't like me. I worry they think I'm weird. I feel ashamed.

To backtrack, I almost never willingly participated in class discussions in high school or college. I stumble over my words when a teacher calls on me for an answer. How am I going to relay my opinion? Everyone's looking at me, oh my god they look annoyed at my voice. They all hate me, they wish I wasn't in the class. I can't wait to go home.

Living with social anxiety is not easy. I am in constant fear of how I am perceived, and I feel I embarrass myself daily by doing average things. Walking down the street, or hurrying to put my change in my wallet after the cashier gives it to me. I hate feeling like everyone else in line is staring at me. I sometimes zip my receipt or one of my fingers trying to hurry up. You know those memes circulating about this very event? Yes, it's an actual cause of anxiety for people like me.

Living with social anxiety has limited my job prospects, because I am afraid to talk to people. I am afraid I will mess up and get fired, or everyone at the job will hate me. My dream job is to work in a tiny cubicle by myself, no talking on the phone or to customers in the flesh. However, almost every job has some aspect of customer service. And I have worked in jobs where I had to talk to strangers.

Therefore, I have dreaded every day of working I have ever had to do. I want a job where I don't feel anxious every single second of the day. I want to be able to be a cute waitress who makes hundreds of dollars in tips, like my sister. I wish I could be a bartender, like my best friend. But bartenders and waitresses are pretty, and I am not. No one would like me to fix their drink. I'd mess it up anyway.

I hate feeling like I cannot live as freely as everyone else. I hate crying over having to do simple tasks, like calling for an appointment, or avoiding making new friends because I fear they'll think I'm a loser. I hate that I have never been to a party, in fear of everyone looking at me and thinking I'm unattractive. I hate that I was bullied so much in my younger years, killing my self-esteem, and making this whole thing worse.

I know that others with social anxiety have it far worse than me, and they get through every single one of their bad days. I can do the same. I can remember that even though I struggle with this state of mind, I have parents who love me and love that I'm a good person. I have my best friend, who never makes fun of me, and who never makes my thoughts race. I have my husband, who thinks it's great that I can make him laugh, even if I don't look strangers in the face. And I have my daughter, who looks at me with eyes that I never want to disappoint. It's time to focus on what I have to offer, and not on what I can't do.