Growing up, I was a wallflower. I don’t know who instilled the idea “Children should be seen and not heard” into my incredibly impressionable mind, but even if it was said ironically, I guess it stuck. Speaking felt like a privilege that I didn’t deserve to utilize often, and I withdrew into a shell.

It got to the point that I felt ashamed for speaking up. I became afraid of sounding dumb and embarrassing myself, and as my fear grew, my social presence diminished. I’ve never really sought out social situations, but it became so bad that I avoided them altogether. I had to rehearse what I was going to say, when I was going to say it, and how it would be said and I eventually became so afraid of how I was being perceived that I stopped going out at all. On the rare occasions that I did socialize, I was constantly trembling, struggling to breathe, mentally rehearsing every possible social situation that could occur and scolding myself if said social situation didn’t go according to plan.

I’m sure you can imagine how fun my first year of college was. Needless to say, I didn’t make a lot of friends.

Then I joined Swing Knights, the swing dancing club.

If I’m being honest, I’ve no idea what possessed me to join. Just the idea of swing dancing should be a complete turn-off to someone with social anxiety because it entails dancing with someone else. There are so many social interactions and anxiety-inducing moments – asking someone to dance, replying to someone’s request to dance, waiting for someone to ask you to dance, introducing yourself to someone else, touching someone else, acting friendly while dancing, hoping you don’t mess up or look stupid during that 3-4 minute exchange… Yeah, just thinking about each individual component is a bit overwhelming and I have no idea how I convinced myself to try it.

But I did.

At my first lesson, there were so many people crammed into a tiny room; I felt like I was suffocating. I had to introduce myself to more people than anyone with social anxiety ever wants to meet in their life, but I swallowed my fear for one night instead of letting it consume me. Surprisingly enough, I didn’t have an anxiety attack around all those people. Everyone was really friendly and open and I didn't feel judged when I messed up, so I came back the next week for another lesson. And, the week after that. And, the following week.

Fast forward to now, a semester later. I meet multiple people every Wednesday night at lessons and every Friday night at dances, and I even ask strangers to dance sometimes. People have actually commented on how social I am. Me. Social. The girl who used to sit in the corner with her face buried in a book or lit up by her phone. The girl who used to barely be able to utter two words if someone approached her. The girl who used to have anxiety attacks at the mere thought of leaving the safety of her room. Social. In fact, some people are really surprised to hear that I have social anxiety and although I'm still working on overcoming social anxiety in other areas of my life and even in Swing Knights sometimes, I think that that’s a testament to how far I’ve come.

For my socially anxious friends, my advice to you is to find something that you're good at or passionate about. Proficiency in a certain skill or interest in a certain topic can facilitate connections, and you're more likely to be confident in a social situation if you know what you're doing or what you're talking about. At the same time, put yourself in an environment where you can make mistakes - where mistakes are expected, even - because it's a little easier to not feel self-conscious if you don't feel judged for screwing up. I know it's hard, but social anxiety doesn't have to dictate how you interact with people. You are capable of so much more than your social anxiety allows you to believe.