Embracing social awkwardness

‘Good morning’, I said cheerfully to the parent I was passing on the school run, making sure to make eye contact and appear friendly (but not over-friendly). Nailed it. Until I realised it was 3pm and I was doing the school pickup. This is a common occurrence for me. I’m Anya, and I don’t always say the right thing. I don’t find small talk easy and I have to make a conscious effort to say something expected or make the correct facial expression. I’ve learned to laugh about this over time - it’s to do with my personality type and the way my brain works. I am often deep in thought and I struggle to recall words quickly, and so I’ve learned to let myself off. 

But whilst it’s easy for me to make light of this, I can easily recall the years of feeling like I had a different script to the rest of the world. I had so much trapped inside that I didn’t know how to communicate with others - a vast inner kingdom with one resident. And over the years, I have noticed how many of us feel on the outside for some reason. There is an unsaid expectation that we need to nail the first few seconds of an interaction with someone. If we stumble, if there's silence or if it feels awkward, we cringe internally, needing to escape from the situation and retreat to where we feel safe. We also allow awkwardness to dictate who we make friends with. We go where it feels easy, where the conversation flows and where they ‘get’ us. It’s instinctual. Or we assume the other person doesn't like us if they are not immediately warm and engaging. But what happens to those of us whose brains work differently? Who can’t follow the same rules as the rest of us and make easy conversation, especially at first? 

We live in an age where we need to speak quickly and think fast. There are few spaces where we can be deeply listened to, and where we can have space to slowly unravel. In group settings, often conversation can be like ping pong - quick interjections that can feel like jumping on a moving train. For me, by the time I’ve thought of something to say, the conversation has moved on. There are times I wish putting our hands up was normal, because I often can’t get the hang of jumping in at the right moment! As children, those who took longer to warm up to a social setting were often labelled as ‘shy’. ‘She’s just shy’, said apologetically as though we were doing something wrong. This sense that shyness or quietness is a bad thing has been passed on through our culture, so that those wired to be more tentative or sensitive can learn there is something wrong with them - which then turns shyness into social anxiety. (I also believe that social anxiety isn’t something we should beat ourselves up for - it’s a normal response to a world where we can have painful interactions, and there is freedom in letting ourselves off for being anxious sometimes.)

There are many reasons we might find it difficult to follow expected social rules, especially at first or with people we know less. And I believe these differences are part of what makes us interesting, each of us showing a different aspect of the character of God. Sometimes it's as simple as having cultural differences that means we may have different expectations of each other to begin with. Some personality types store thoughts and words in a different, more long term, part of the brain, and have to make more effort to recall and talk freely, especially when feeling a bit nervous. Some of us may be sensitive to our surroundings and need to take time to notice all that is around and settle. Some of us might struggle with eye contact, and find this uncomfortable. Some of us might find small talk easy and comforting, whilst others might dread it and long for depth. And there are those of us who prefer lots of interactions and a big social network, and those of us who struggle in group settings and prefer fewer but deeper friendships. So often it can feel easier to gravitate towards those who appear comfortable and don’t need to be drawn out. We can write off certain people because it takes too much work. Here’s the thing though. We need each other. There are those who’s words roll off their tongue, who exude charisma or light up a room when they walk in. We need their encouragement, their fun and their sense of holding a group together. But this isn’t the standard that all of us should get measured by, and there shouldn’t be a social pecking order of who is more worthy of connection. I am learning that there are profound treasures to be found in each one of us, especially when we connect with those who are different to us.

Maybe social awkwardness shouldn’t be seen as a bad thing. Maybe we shouldn’t even label it as ‘awkwardness’. Perhaps, instead, it is simply a period of time that someone might need to adjust to a situation or a person. What a gift it would be to allow each person to build connections on their own terms - to give them the space and time they need to feel safe enough to unravel. We can make snap judgments of each other, missing the profound internal worlds that each of us hold. What would it look like to befriend even just one person who is different to us? To make an effort, even if it takes some time to reach a point of familiarity? I wonder what it would teach us about ourselves and the world. And I wonder how it would feel to draw this person into a place of belonging, watching as they begin to shine in their own way.