From Silent to Seen: My Journey through Social Anxiety
The first confidence workshop I attended was hosted by someone who had also struggled with social anxiety. Our stories weren’t identical, of course, but her experience was reassuring, and helped me feel seen and understood for the first time.
This is why I share my own story with you.
When participants on Gutsy courses open up about what’s hard for them, the nods of recognition around the room are heartening and validating. It’s one of the reasons coming together in a group to work on our struggles is so powerful — especially if groups are something we find difficult!
Most of us can feel a bit awkward and odd and lonely. It helps to know you’re not alone. There is nothing quite like the ripples of resonance around a room of people who get it.
Quiet beginnings
“You’re too shy for journalism.”
Those words echoed in my teenage mind as I sat in my bedroom, surrounded by cutouts from Kerrang! magazine, dreaming of being a music critic. Like many shy kids, I was living life from behind a protective glass – watching, wanting to participate, but not knowing how.
I got barked at to ‘speak up’, my quietness was criticised in every school report, and I listened while my mum apologised to people for my shyness.
So I believed it when I was told I wasn’t cut out to be a journalist, to do the thing I loved and to write about the thing that mattered most to me in the world. I believed that my quietness was a flaw and that my shyness was a shameful, unfixable problem.
Sometimes we need a shield up against the world…
and sometimes that shield becomes the thing that blocks our way.
The hidden cost of ‘good girl’ syndrome
I became an expert at:
Avoiding what scared me
Deflecting attention and questions about myself
Playing by the rules and meeting other people’s expectations
Being the ‘good girl’
Putting on a brave face
Shrinking back, doubting myself and tentatively observing
I even achieved ‘proficiency in disco dancing’ from Kelly’s Dance Studio aged 8 (let me know if you want to see my certificate), blushed and sweated my way through a few school plays, and made a lovely best friend or two to cling to.
But this constant masking came at a price: isolation, invisibility and a vicious inner critic that grew louder with each passing year.
The critic got stronger and meaner.
Turning point
In 2014, I found myself staring at a workshop description: ‘drama for confidence’. Everything in me screamed ‘NO!’ And that’s exactly why I knew I had to try it.
Drama was my kind of my worst nightmare! And, at the same time, I had a sense that it was the exact thing I needed. They say ‘the cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek’, after all.
And I was tired of:
The constant anxious whirlwind
The racing heart and hot cheeks
Not knowing how to open up to people
Never feeling carefree, at ease or unselfconscious
Making decisions based on fear rather than desire
Living for others’ expectations
Feeling invisible and misunderstood
Watching life happen from the sidelines
I desperately wanted to feel ease, acceptance, a sense of belonging and closeness.
The unexpected road to freedom
I found a workshop run by dramatherapist Claire Schrader, and gave it a go.
Here’s the beautiful irony: playing someone else helped me find myself. Through drama and improv, I discovered that:
Being quiet isn’t a flaw
There’s no shame in shyness
Sensitivity and introversion can be strengths
The inner critic lies, and can be managed
We can learn tools to feel safe and supported from within
Authenticity matters more than performance
Connection happens when we dare to be seen
I did many more courses over the years, and went on to train in Claire’s Sunflower Effect method in 2021.
Dream outweighs the fear
Soon, hiding who I am, what I do and what I care about felt like the real danger. I’d built confidence to steady the fear.
With each step, I was gathering evidence that I wasn’t some fragile thing that needed to be carefully bubble-wrapped, but rather I was someone with inner strength and gifts worth sharing.
I was unlearning underestimating myself…
because being quiet doesn’t mean that you can’t.
And the shy girl who was ‘too quiet’ for journalism?
Played drums in a feminist punk band
Toured across Europe
Played and talked live on the radio
Published a book
Spoke at gallery exhibitions
Created and co-hosted social art projects — which always took extra care to explore ways to gather for people who don’t always find socialising easy ;)
But the real victories were also quieter:
Saying yes to hanging out with friends more
Talking on the phone or ordering in restaurants without panic
Speaking in meetings at work
Being less self-conscious on the tube or walking down the road
Accepting offers of help
Speaking at my grandmother’s funeral
Going to events alone with ease
In some ways, the most profound changes in my life are the ones that don’t look like much on paper, but fill me up every day.
What I know now
Fear isn’t a stop sign – it can be pointing us towards growth.
Discomfort isn’t an error message – it’s a signal you’re expanding.
Being socially sensitive isn’t a flaw – it’s a gift.
One gutsy step opens many new doors.
Fear is not a stop sign and discomfort is not an error message.
These are signals that we’re on a Gutsy path. And we can build our capacity to handle them and keep moving.
Your turn
If you see yourself in my story – if you’re watching life from behind that protective glass – know this: transformation is possible without losing your authentic self. You don’t need to become loud or outgoing to find your voice. You just need to find your own gutsy way forward.
When you get more comfortable being seen and known, making connections and being in groups, whole worlds open up for you in unimagined ways.
Ready to explore your own path to authentic confidence? Sign up to Get Gutsy to hear about upcoming workshops where we create safe spaces for quiet souls to shine.