Show Up Anyway: A Note for the Socially Anxious
Here is a thing I did this morning: I spent twenty minutes trying on shirts in a hotel bathroom mirror, trying to find the one that would make me look like a person who deserves to eat breakfast. I hadn’t eaten in twenty-four hours. My hands were shaking as I held my plate in the continental breakfast room, surrounded by strangers who were, objectively, just eating eggs and scrolling their phones and had no interest in me whatsoever. And I could not wait to leave.
Is It Weird That a Psychology Writer Is This Anxious?
This is the part where I tell you what I do for a living, because I think it’s important context: I run a psychology blog. I write about personality types, mental health, and how to understand yourself and the people around you. I am, technically, a person who explains human behavior for a living. I am also a person who stood in a hotel hallway psyching herself up to go eat a free waffle. These two things tend to coexist within my body on a constant basis.
So why did I start Psychology Junkie? Was it because I’m some kind of psychology savant? Do I have a sixth sense for understanding people? Am I just altruistic to a fault?
Nope. I started it because people are confusing as hell.
My whole life, I’ve felt like an alien observing the human race from the outside, trying to figure out why they do what they do. Typology gave me a lens to make sense of it all. Suddenly, people’s quirks and behaviors had patterns. I could understand why my ESTP husband didn’t really enjoy existential or philosophical conversations or why my ENFJ sister sometimes struggled to say “no” when people asked her for help. It was a cheat code, honestly. A way to make the overwhelming world a little less overwhelming. And I figured if understanding type made understanding people so much easier for me, there were probably a lot more people out there who could benefit from it.
What learning and writing about psychology did not do was cure my social anxiety. Or my OCD. Those stuck around. They are very loyal. They’re like golden retrievers that follow me everywhere, except instead of tennis balls they bring intrusive thoughts.
The Approval Trap
I remember one particular piece of advice I got from a fellow typology expert. They told me, “Never show your belly in this field. If you’re vulnerable, they’ll tear you apart.” And because I respected this person, I took it to heart. I’d already encountered my fair share of bullies in the blogging world, so it wasn’t hard to believe. But here’s the thing: I don’t care anymore.
Every good decision I’ve made for my business has come from not caring what people think. Not in the “I’m a rebel, screw everyone” way, but in the “I’m too tired to keep living in fear of being disliked” way. And yes, I’m an INTJ, so technically I’m supposed to be above all that. But let’s be real—I want to be liked. It’s human. The problem is, chasing that has never led me anywhere good.
The Year I Almost Trashed My Blog
I almost quit this blog after the first year. The criticism was, in a word, special. Someone told me I should die because they didn’t like my color scheme, which I think is a disproportionate response to web design, but I am not a graphic designer so maybe I’m missing something. Someone else left a comment mocking my weight after I posted a video, which I deleted so fast it might as well have never existed. People dissected my intelligence, my writing, my descriptions of their personality types with the enthusiasm of people who had nowhere else to be. And yes, most of the feedback I received was positive, genuinely kind, sometimes moving. Our brains, in their infinite wisdom, take only the one “you should die” and pin it to the bulletin board of our psyche and hold daily meetings about it.
But here is what I kept coming back to: I wasn’t writing for the people who throw a tantrum over a color scheme or can’t give criticism without resorting to cruelty. I was writing because I loved it, because I needed it, because putting words around things has always been how I learn better. I also wanted to write because I realized that for every two negative comments, there were several people who’d reach out and tell me something I wrote helped them understand their wife better, their child, their friend, their sibling, or, even better…themselves.
Writing about psychology helps me cement the facts and structure of it in my own brain. So I kept going. But it hasn’t always been easy. I still feel like I need to “prepare” to have permission to exist in the world.
What Actually Helps People (It’s Not the Polished Stuff)
The content I’ve made that has really helped people has never been my most polished work. It’s the messy stuff: The article where I wrote about struggling with OCD, the video I made about struggling to decipher my own personality type, about feeling like a fraud in a field I’ve spent over 20 years studying. Those are the ones that land, because they’re authentic. The clinical, careful, everything-in-order posts still might help people figure out whether they’re an ISFP or an ISFJ, but I’ve gotten more “this helped me feel less alone” posts from the messy, embarrassing (at least to me) stuff.
Apparently people do not need me to have it together. They just need me to show up.
Some people assume I’ve got it figured out because I write about psychology. I want to disabuse you of this notion. I still stand in hotel hallways wondering if a waffle is worth the existential cost of being perceived. I still have OCD which means that I moved the orange on my hotel desk 15 times before I could work because where I place my orange might have existential implications for human survival. I still hit send on my newsletter and immediately try not to look at my computer for a few hours like a person who has thrown a grenade and would like to be elsewhere when it lands. But I’ve stopped waiting to be healed before I contribute something. If I had waited until the anxiety went away, Psychology Junkie would never exist. I’d still be in that hotel hallway….or not even. I’d be in my room, very hungry.
You Don’t Have to Wait Either
So here is what I want to say to you, if you’ve ever felt too weird or too anxious or too much of an outsider to belong, if you’ve been waiting to be good enough or fixed enough or confident enough to show up: you don’t have to wait.
Show up messy. Show up weird. Show up anxious. Just show up. Because the world needs what only you can give, even if your hands are shaking while you open the door.
And maybe, just maybe, if you can find the way, ask for help, too. Show up as you are, don’t be afraid to ask for help, to tell someone you trust, “Hey, I’m scared.” The right people will hold space for you along the way.
If You’re Standing in Your Own Hotel Hallway Right Now
Maybe you’re hesitating before sending the email, before walking out your door, before sharing an idea that feels a little too honest or personal.
Maybe you’re waiting until you’re more confident.
More healed.
More impressive.
Before you go back to hiding, read this to yourself. It might help:
- I don’t have to feel confident to take a small step forward.
- My anxiety is a feeling, not a statement about my worth.
- I am allowed to exist in this space exactly as I am today.
- Showing up imperfectly is still showing up.
- I don’t have to impress anyone in order to deserve being here.
- People are usually thinking about themselves more than they are judging me.
- I can survive a few awkward moments. I’ve done it before.
- Progress for me might look small from the outside, but it still counts.
- Being anxious does not mean I’m incapable of doing meaningful things.
- I don’t have to be healed to contribute something good to the world.
- I am allowed to take up space even on the days I feel unsure.
- Courage doesn’t mean the fear disappears; it means I move forward anyway.
- The world is better when more real people show up, not just the polished ones.
- I can do this one small step at a time.
And if all you can manage today is one small step — one email, one conversation, one waffle in a crowded breakfast room — that still counts.
I’m going to leave you with a few quotes that always help me when I’m feeling anxious:
“Trust yourself. You’ve survived a lot, and you’ll survive whatever is coming.” ― Robert Tew
“They say, ‘Look before you leap.’ So look. But do not look for too long. Do not look into the void of uncertainty trying to predict each and every possible outcome, to evaluate every possible mistake, to prevent each possible failure. Look for the opportunity to leap, and leap faster than your fear can grab you.” — Vironika Tugaleva
“You have dug your soul out of the dark, you have fought to be here; do not go back to what buried you.” — Bianca Sparacino
Thank you for your vulnerability – it hit hard, and I needed it. As another female INTJ, I too live with anxiety, and not OCD, but autism. Especially now, as our country and world seem to lack order, and seemingly losing humanity, it’s these kinds of messages that help keep endurance among many of us. Gratitude!
Hey Susan, I just wanted to say thanks for showing up. I love your kindness and heart for helping others figure things out. For me your explanations are very helpful and make so much sense. I am a sensitive ISFJ and people are a challenge for me in many ways. I gravitate to the kind ones like you.
This has got to be one of your best articles yet! Thank you for continuing to show up for us all. It really does help me when I learn about, not only my personality type but that of others around me, through your very well-written and informative articles. You’ve made me feel a little less weird and a bit more “normal according to my type”. I like that! But, you’ve also helped me to embrace my weirdness. It’s encouraging to know that I fit in with a group of people who have many of my same traits, likes, fears, quirks, strengths, habits, etc. I appreciate all of the work you are doing here and hope you’ll continue. Thank you, X 1M!!
Fellow INTP here – love the alternate acronym (if that’s the term??)!
This really hit home. I know exactly how you feel. Seems like everything you said I’ve felt before too. Also, your humour is the best!
I sometimes push myself to do things that are “hard” for me, because my desire to do them is bigger than my anxiety. I actually feel pretty pleased with myself for doing this!
Keep up with your writing, despite any negative comments, because you’ve got a real talent for written expression. I enjoy your articles!
I thank you for all you’ve done and continue to do.
Today, this resonated for me, “people do not need me to have it together. They just need me to show up.”
“My whole life, I’ve felt like an alien observing the human race from the outside, trying to figure out why they do what they do.”
You may be my sister-from-another-mother…Human behavior never made much sense to me either, until I read Florence Littauer’s “Personality Plus” only *after* barely surviving a horrible first full-time job and then graduate school; and my first two thoughts were 1) YES!! and 2) Why couldn’t I have come across this information 15 years ago?? I’ve since moved from the four Platonian types to MBTI and dabbled in Enneagrams (I’m a 5w4, apparently one of the most anxiety-fraught combinations…), and while these don’t necessarily make me more confident in public settings per se, I can at least better see head-on collisions before they blindside me.
I also don’t like entering rooms full of strangers (or crowds in general), and even though I refuse to go out in public until I’ve selected just the right outfit and every hair is in place I resent being made the center of attention. Especially nerve-wracking are those places where the locals hang out, so that when an “outsider” opens the door everyone turns and stares (and once I didn’t even step inside but just closed the door and left).
At this point I’ve more or less made peace with the idea that I will always feel “other” and that not everyone will like me, even in church where everyone is supposed to be friendly but are also human with their own hang-ups. It IS hard to remember that those who thrive by dishing out cruelty (or “telling it like it is”) are in the minority, because it is their words and opinions that weigh more heavily. But articles like these demonstrate that I’m not alone in feeling this way, and it is your vulnerability – your “not-having-it-all-together”-ness – that makes your work stand out.
You are an excellent writer Susan. I am one of the usually silent thousands who reads your blog and I always take a great deal away from it. Thank you!
As a (probable) INTP, I found this article incredibly inspiring. Thank you for continuing to produce new material. I always read the newsletter when it comes, and once in a while a post like this one hits home. My mother was agoraphobic, so I have always worked hard to fight social anxiety. But there’s always a sense of not belonging anywhere, even after 75 years of life. Anyway, please keep it up. You help me feel more accepting of myself and others. Thank you.
I’m an INFJ. This is so helpful. Thanks for all you do, especially sharing your heart. I’m going to share this with my four granddaughters… 🙂