Is Social Anxiety Manageable? Here's What Helped Me

I’m 17, sitting on my bed in a student dormitory I just moved into. There are three other girls in the room.

“Tell us about yourself,” one of them asks.

My heart is pounding. I feel frozen.

“I don’t know what to say,” I whisper so quietly that my words are barely recognizable. They try to start a conversation a few more times, but it doesn’t work.

Social anxiety leads to involuntary self-isolation, though at that moment, I wasn’t even aware of the concept. I had never been overly social, but before turning 17, I had never had significant difficulties connecting with people either. Then, something inside me just broke. I started seeing myself as strange, feeling a deep sense of shame for no longer being “normal.”

Despite this, my need for human connection pushed me to follow student groups that seemed at least somewhat welcoming, even though I always felt out of place. Gradually, I became more comfortable, more open, and safer in their presence. So, my first piece of advice for those facing similar struggles: even if you feel emotionally detached from a group, try to stay in it, at least physically. Familiarity makes things less intimidating. It’s harder to fear what you recognize.

The second thing I tried was becoming more familiar with the experience of being around new people. I attended countless group activities in the city, almost always standing quietly in a corner with my heart pounding wildly. The thing was, I loved writing and studied journalism — hardly the easiest career path for someone afraid of people. I didn’t understand what was wrong with me, but I desperately wanted to overcome it to become the person I chose to be. And while I can’t say that exposing myself to my fears cured me completely — it didn’t — it definitely brought some positive changes.

I had also always assumed that people saw me as strange for being so quiet and anxious, which only made me even more silent. But another shift happened a few years later when I was already working. Then, I had to visit my former workplace, a place where I was convinced that all my colleagues had found me downright odd because I barely spoke to them. To my surprise, they were genuinely happy to see me. Some even recalled my rare jokes, introducing me to their new colleagues as “extremely funny.” That moment made me realize that my belief — that everyone disliked me for being quiet — was just an assumption, not an objective truth. In fact, such assumptions are one of the symptoms. You feel like everyone hates you, which only intensifies your fear, trapping you in the same cycle.

I didn’t receive an actual diagnosis until I was 26. Over the past two years, therapy has helped me understand many things. For example, shifting focus from myself to others helps reduce anxiety. Or that cultivating curiosity can, to some extent, counteract fear. I’m definitely not as socially anxious as I used to be.

At the same time, it hasn’t disappeared completely. Sometimes, I still feel like I fail in social interactions. But despite that, I haven’t let it take control of my life. I’ve been a journalist for years, meeting countless new people. I’ve migrated to different countries three times, and in every place, I’ve found great friends. So maybe our failures don’t always mean that much. 

But social connections do. For me personally, little things in life are as satisfying as feeling deeply connected to others. So, I think it’s definitely worth seeking, even if it needs a lot of effort.