Let’s face it, you can get away with a lot of things when you’re attractive. So being awkward as fuck has been an endearing quality for me for quite some time now. However, I’ve since Usain Bolted past the line that separates charming from self-sabatoging.
Friends of mine always find it more than surprising when I tell them I’m awkward. “But you used to go-go dance! But you’re a sex blogger!” they always say. And I get it. I really do. Dancing half naked on a stage isn’t typically a shy characteristic. Neither is explaining in full detail your favorite sexual positions over the internet. But my real friends know that I would rather walk through fire than introduce myself to a handsome man. The feeling is pretty much the same for me.
It used to be that this crippling awkwardness was only present in my exchanges with men I’m interested in. However, I’ve been noticing it more and more in networking environments where interaction with strangers is necessary to promote yourself, and advance in this dog eat dog world. When I was temping a few months ago for Foursquare and had so much social anxiety that I ate at my desk instead of joined the team in the kitchen, I knew I had a problem.
The frustrating part is I’m pretty fucking outgoing, which makes me feel like a “special case” introvert. The issue I seem to have is always the initial introductions. But once that thin wall of awkwardness is broken down, you’ll probably wish my TMI threshold wasn’t so high. The whole thing genuinely depresses me sometimes, because my ineptitude is beginning to overshadow my awesomeness. And most of all, it’s getting in the way of me excelling in my career. Case in point, I should be making a phone call right now to a very important person whose boss could expose my blog to the masses. However, I’m stalling because I’m scared to talk on the phone.
Fuck. Can you imagine how I am during interviews?
Can anyone provide some non-threatening solutions or suggestions to this problem? And don’t say “Just try smiling at him, that’s all it takes”. Because that’s all it takes for me to crawl under the table and into a little ball. And I genuinely admire those who can go to a bar by themselves and makes friends. I look around at my girls who can initiate a conversation with a tree stump, and know I’m missing out on life. Don’t get me wrong, I can carry out an engaging conversation. I’m even a great wing-woman! But if I can’t fly with my own wings, I’m pretty much a sitting duck.
p.s. I agree with 18 out of the 21 here.