Last night I read a CNN article written by a therapist — John Duffy — that described people who weren’t all that anxious to return to “normal” life after the pandemic was over. “These people thrived in pandemic isolation — and aren’t ready to return to ‘normal’ socializing.”

The writer essentially labeled such people as “socially anxious” and described it as a kind of pathology. Personally, I don’t think being reluctant to wander around in a world in which a deadly pandemic is flying around is pathological but definitively sane. I know that social avoidance CAN be a problem for people, but not all people who are not super eager to return to “normal” life are struggling with a mental health issue. One thing the article never mentioned was people like me who do things — enjoy things — that you just don’t do with a bunch of friends or out in the world.

I remember very well the night I typed the last word on the finished rough draft of my first novel, Martin of Gfenn. I had little time to work on it — an hour or so in the evening which made the finished (ha ha) draft very repetitive because I had to catch up where I’d left off. Anyhoo I shut down my computer (an old Apple) stood up and wondered where everybody was. I’d spent so much time with all these interesting people, the characters in my book, and now my house was completely empty. It was one of those moment in life when you think there should be champagne and a big celebration but my house was empty (except for six dogs). That’s when I realized that to write I’d have to accept a kind of solitude most people might never even know.

At the same time, I’d had this incredible experience that was impossible to share with anyone. I’d written a novel. I’d brought my story, my vision, for Martin (the character) into real life. I’d done the work, the immense research, all of it, the library time (back then). Because of my book, I KNEW people who’d lived in the 13th century. The experience catapulted me into a different Martha, but I couldn’t share that, either. I remember sitting in my living room thinking, “If you’re going to do that, you’re going to have to accept solitude.”

My mom had social anxiety and she was always afraid her kids would, too. It was one of the reasons she didn’t want her two artistic kids to be artists. “You’ll always be alone.” But she didn’t know. Maybe the great designer puts each of us together exactly right for who we are.

I don’t dispute that there are people with social anxiety and that maybe it’s a problem for them (it was for my mom because she wasn’t happy). But not all people who are less than eager for a return to “normal” life fit into that slot. I came to understand this when I was teaching. There were meetings in which NOTHING happened. Problems weren’t solved. Some people talked and some people didn’t. I seldom did. Then someone would end the meeting and invariably say, “This was a good meeting. Thank you so much for sharing your concerns.” They would point to a list they’d written while the talkers were talking.

Two things went through my mind. First, only the concerns of the people who’d spoken up were on that list. Second, the REAL reason for the meeting had nothing to do with solving problems. These people just needed to get in a room together and yammer at each other. The act itself was meaningful to them. For me it was a complete waste of time. When I felt something needed to be changed I’d go find the person who could change it and talk to them or write them so they could share my thoughts clearly and compellingly laid out rather than in an emotion-laden rambling rant.

Social anxiety or not, we’re stuck in the world with each other and extroversion is “normal.” Many an introvert (like me) has no particular social anxiety, it’s just that “out there” is tiring and requires effort that being alone probably requires for the extroverted. I have friends who’ve had significant stress during the past year because they have been precluded from doing the things that they love to do. They’ve engaged socially much more than I would (or did). For them the risk of NOT engaging was worse than the risk of getting ill.

“A year ago, most of us could not imagine a world in which we not only didn’t have to go to work, school, restaurants, concerts and churches, much less that any such activity would be forbidden. And my socially anxious clients have now been basking in a wholly false sense of security for the better part of a year.”


In other words, the world in which the socially anxious are comfortable can’t last. They don’t own the world.

And then…in reality when I was 12, and had to give a prayer at church, in front of the congregation, I passed out, fell on the floor, humiliated myself and my mom. I was THAT afraid of public speaking. I knew even then that I could not live the life I wanted if I was that afraid to stand and say my say. I worked hard to overcome that. The moment I knew I HAD overcome that happened almost 40 years later, when, at the invitation of one of my students, I gave a lecture (one I’d given to this student’s class) on overcoming the fear of public speaking. There were 300 students in that room waiting to hear me. Some were there because it was required or extra credit for their communication class; some were there because they wanted some hope. They, too, knew they couldn’t go forward in their lives without overcoming that. I had a good slide show and a good speech. I also wore clothes in which my armpit sweat wouldn’t show because yes. I was terrified. But what’s the point of terror like that? There is none. It was a bit of an operation to set up and prepare, but…

I gave my speech. It was well accepted, applauded. Then, afterward, when nearly everyone had left and I was packing up my stuff, a young woman came to talk to me. She was so nervous her face was shaking, her hands were damp and shaky, too.

“Can I ask you something?” she ventured.


“Did you REALLY get over being afraid?”

“No.” I slipped off my jacket. My pit stains went to my waist.

“How do you do it? I never imagined you were nervous.”

“I had something important to say,” I told her. “More important than how I felt when I started to speak. That’s my secret. I think of what I have to say and who needs to hear it. And, I prepare. And I know that whatever happens, it’s not going to kill me.”

She wrote all this down, no longer shaking. Then, “Thank you, thank you so much. I think you helped me.”

ONE person in that room NEEDED that message. Was her personality a pathology? No.

But after that…I gave several papers at conferences and all the normal things that were part of my life and job, but I was (with the exception of my book reading in 2019) never nervous again. Social anxiety — which I believe everyone has — is not “abnormal.” It’s human.

20 thoughts on ““Normal?”

  1. Your post resonated with me. When I attended a women’s retreat made up of introverts, they all agreed I was the most introverted of the introverts. How is that for a badge? I have no desire to rush into dangerous waters. The only thing I really truly miss is my family.

    • ❤ In a way, I think we scare the "normals." I've thought about it a lot and realize they haven't had the fight the same obstacles introverts have to fight. I think this pandemic might have been for a lot of them the first time they've confronted a relentlessly uncomfortable and tiring reality. I'm only moderately introverted, but I'd still rather do my things than sit around in pointless social situations.

  2. I can relate. I grew up with some social anxiety, then managed to overcome most the rest of my life. But now, has returned but for different reasons thanks to the past 4+ years. I have lost trust that the other person is good. So, not eager to engage in conversation or to start a friendship and later find out they are Voldemort supporters and then would have to end it. Not worth the trouble. So I am happy just doing my thing and not being with others much. No need to socialize.

    • I think we’ve all lost some important “innocence” in the past several years. It’s been disillusioning — heart-breaking? — to see meanness and ignorance elevated so high. It kind of invalidates everything I’ve done, believe and stand for.

  3. I won’t say that I’m a introvert person.
    But honestly speaking I’m not good at verbal communication. I mean I can, but it’s not that good. So many talks and thoughts comes to my mind whenever I attends any social gathering or discussions, but those thoughts don’t come out the way from my mouth, which I wants to.

    But as it is said, there’s always an another way. And I found my way through writing. I can say that something good happened to me last year in lockdown.

    • I’m OK (now) with communicating orally, but I don’t remember well things like lectures or talks. I’m more comfortable writing and reading. When I have something important to say, I’m similar to you. It doesn’t come out right.

    • I just read Carrot’s post again and you’re right. But a lot of the things I do I can’t possibly do socially and one thing I miss in my life right now are friends to hike with, who like it as much as I do. I’ve thought about that a lot and realize they were always pretty hard to find, virus, old-age, all that notwithstanding.

      • I didn’t mean counterpoint in the sense of the arguments they had on “60 Minutes” (notwithstanding the direct reference I made). Really I meant akin to the “relationship between two or more musical lines (or voices) which are harmonically interdependent yet independent in rhythm and melodic contour.[1]” (Laitz “The Complete Musician”, cited in Wikipedia entry on counterpoint.)

        • I like that — but you’ve brought into this some interesting ideas about what community and communication really mean. Maybe I’ll write about that tomorrow and maybe I’ll write about beans. 😀

  4. I used to be very introverted but learned to enjoy social activities. Still my solo pursuits satisfy me just as easily. For me the pandemic lock down and distancing has not been a hardship. My MIL on the other hand was very unhappy and definitely wanted to be out and about with her friends, go to her club meetings, and generally gad about. At one point her daughter threatened to take away her car keys if she couldn’t isolate! Then again she doesn’t understand the internet or blogging, not even FB. This blogging community has kept me in touch with people and I’ve never felt lonely!

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