Listen to this week’s newsletter on Spotify, Apple, or wherever you get your podcasts!

---

I’m currently sitting on a plane, going back to LA from Nashville. As you may remember, last year, I joined a unique mentoring program with the production company Hello Sunshine, helmed by none other than Reese Witherspoon. This past week, we had a little “retreat” in Reese’s hometown. Many of the other women who are part of this mentoring program (called “The Collective”) congregated for a couple days of good food, good company, and lots of laughter. I was especially lucky in that vein since I was often seated by my fellow Collective member, Shia (​@shiadanni​), a uniquely gifted comedian. She made me laugh a LOT. I promised a jar of my vegan kimchi in return for her companionship.

While part of me was looking forward to an opportunity to catch up with the ladies at this retreat, there was also a part of me that was dreading it–not in the mean way, but in the fearful way. I’d barely landed in LA from my prior work trip before having to pack for this next one. With so little turnaround between my keynote with The Humane Society in DC (where I needed to recite a 30 minute speech in a roomful of 500 animal advocates!), I had little time to recover and steel myself for the social anxiety that inevitably attends these types of things.

What Even Is “Social Anxiety”?

I honestly think my friends get tired of me attributing so much of my social anxiety and gracelessness to my imposter syndrome, “Like oh for god’s sake get over it already.” But I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t feel big boulders of anxiety growing in the pit of my stomach days and days in advance of events like these, where terrifying things like “cocktail hours” and “ice cream socials” are listed right on the agenda (like don’t people know how these phrases strike cold-sweat inducing FEAR in the hearts of all introverts???).

I boarded the plane to Tennessee, psyching myself up for the days ahead, repeating things like “You got this,” and “Just pretend you’re confident,” and “Worse comes to worst, you can always fake a mysterious tummy ache that requires your retreat to the hotel room…”

I started to wonder why I was like this. Why couldn’t I relax, simply look forward to reconnecting with people who I’d already evaluated to be nice and welcoming and kind? My husband, Anthony, always seemed so enviably reassured in these types of settings, genuinely excited for parties with a bunch of people neither of us knew. Why couldn’t I be more like him, I lamented?

What am I, even? People bandy about words like “introverted,” and “imposter syndrome,” and “social anxiety” like we’ve all written a dissertation on Carl Jung, but I’d never really taken the time to look into any of these things with a more scientific eye.

It turns out that while these things are related and sometimes even confused with each other, they’re not the same thing and, more importantly, one doesn’t necessarily lead to another. For example, you can totally be an introvert while having no social anxiety. You can also be a complete extrovert with crippling social anxiety (whoddathunkit!). And I think imposter syndrome does not discriminate at all when it comes to who it decides to plague with its insidious form of demoralization.

Introversion is perhaps better characterized as “low-extraversion.” In other words, instead of viewing introversion as the dichotomous opposite of extraversion, it’s more accurately described as sitting low on the extraversion spectrum. Dr. Jung, who coined the term introvert, defined it as someone “governed by subjective factors,” or, put another way, someone reacting to internal experiences, more than external stimuli. Since the term was originally coined in the 1920s, modern practitioners have refined the term to refer to those who are “relatively quiet, reserved, and not looking for excitement.”

To me, the above sounds more like a list of traits as opposed to a defining way of viewing the world. Other introvert traits might include a general uneasiness when chatting with strangers, allowing others to do most of the talking, a predilection for solitude, i.e. that feeling that you could quite happily exist on your own for extended periods of time, and finally, a need to recharge after large social events. One helpful example:

“[E]xtroverts look at a room full of people and see interesting, rewarding possibilities. Introverts in that same room won’t see it like that. To introverts, a room full of people is exhausting…. Introverts anticipate the effort required to engage and just don’t have the sense that it will lead to positive emotions and enjoyment in the way extroverts do…” (​Emily Erickson, “What Makes Someone an Introvert.”​)

Most people will read the above and say things like, “Well, I will see interesting, rewarding possibilities in a roomful of people and feel exhausted at the same time. Where does that leave me?”

The truth is, the majority of people (myself included) fall somewhere along the continuum. Dr. Jung himself was quoted as saying that only “lunatics” could be either a “pure” introvert or extrovert.

Interestingly, studies suggest that where you fall on that spectrum can, in large part, be a function of your genes. In other words, you may be more genetically predisposed, at birth, to fall closer to the “introversion” end than on the “extroversion” side of things.

Which, if true, makes it rather useless to criticize someone for being “too introverted” or “overly extroverted.”

Social anxiety “is an anxiety disorder in which you experience persistent fear of social or performance situations…” (​Joseph Bennington Castro, “What is Social Anxiety Disorder.”​) In other words, it’s not a list of traits that you’re somewhat born with and thus help to define your personality. Rather, it is a chronic and sometimes debilitating “worry that [one] will behave in a way that will be embarrassing and humiliating and that they will be judged by others, particularly people they do not know well.” (​Id.​) Put another way, folks with social anxiety disorder feel “they need to behave perfectly in social situations because they tend to imagine that others are superior to them and critical of them. They also have a longing for acceptance, but their fear of others’ judgment can keep them from finding it.” (​Id.​)

Nearly 15 million people in the United States have social anxiety disorder. What causes social anxiety disorder? Scientists are still unsure, but it appears that the primary cause for social anxiety disorder is some negative life experience: “children who are teased, bullied, rejected, ridiculed, or humiliated may be more likely to develop social anxiety disorder. Family conflict, trauma, abuse, or other negative life events may also be linked to the condition.” (​Id.​) There may also be some genetic component, too, that’s at play in whether a person shows signs of this disorder.

I have to say, reading the above felt like looking in a mirror. It wasn’t that I was a card carrying “introvert” that made these events so sweaty for me. It’s that I was afraid of being judged and humiliated by people I didn’t know but wanted to please. At some point in my life, my parents taught me that success (which, in my family, loosely translated into “survival”) was directly related to my ability to impress my teachers. Failure to collect a bunch of literal and metaphorical stars would absolutely result in humiliation. Could this be the cause for the boulders now rolling around in my stomach?

Imposter syndrome ​I’ve discussed before​. It’s when people “believe that they are undeserving of their achievements and the high esteem in which they are, in fact, generally held.” (​Psychology Today.​) This sounds similar to social anxiety disorder, but one doesn’t get “diagnosed” with imposter syndrome. It seems to me, though, that one goes rather well with the other, right? Someone who doesn’t think they deserve the accolades they’ve received may, understandably, also feel like they will be judged as deficient, “unmasked,” if you will, at social events where they are under more frequent and perhaps intimate scrutiny.

All it’ll take is one faux pas, one massive flub-up, one incident after sipping on a cocktail over dinner even though you’re allergic and then fainting in front of everyone and having the ambulance cart you away in the middle of a corporate retreat (who me? no, this happened to, you know, a friend of a friend….), to reveal to the world the “real you.” And we are right back to humiliation city, a place that, oddly enough, is soothing in its familiarity, even if it is a little miserable.

Overcoming Social Anxiety.

How does one overcome social anxiety? Imposter syndrome? As I’ve written about before, my friend Nabiha (a therapist in training) is a champion of the “2.0,” the version of ourselves that we step into like armor before social events. “What would Joanne 2.0 do in that situation?” she’d ask. I find the visualization of this to be quite helpful–like literally visualizing Joanne 2.0 walking into the roomful of people, going right up to strangers, introducing herself as a brilliant and charming but not overly cocky authoress, with nary a faux pas nor fainting spell in sight.

I also remind myself that there’s probably going to be at least 1 other person in the room who feels the same way I do, who will be relieved that I go up to her, stretch my hand out, and say, “Hey, I’m Joanne. It’s nice to meet you.” And that if anyone’s weirded out by such a gesture, then honestly… they’re the problem, not me.

On my last day in Nashville, I stopped at a small cafe, mostly just to use the bathroom. As I touched up my hair over the sink before walking out the door of the women’s room, a young lady washing her hands next to me commented, “I love your skirt.” She was dressed in muddy green cargo pants, a worn cotton tank-top. She had a very heavy looking backpack hugging her body, a pair of thick brown glasses that made it difficult to see her pale green eyes. A mop of unkempt hair, damp from humidity, curled around her ears.

“Thanks!” I smiled at her through our reflections in the mirrors.

“Where’d you get it?” she asked.

“Oh,” I stumbled, because I hadn’t expected a young woman wearing cargo pants and a backpack to be interested in where one might procure a lacy, lavender full-length skirt. “I picked it up at a small shop in Italy last summer.”

She turned to me, then, to look at me directly instead of just through the mirrors, so I turned to her, as well.

“Oh. I’d like to get to Italy one day,” she said a little wistfully. But as she formed the words to this otherwise unremarkable sentence, I could see that her chin was quivering, that her eyes were slightly downcast, angled through those thick lenses in such a way that they wouldn’t quite meet mine.

And I realized just how much courage it took her to say to a complete stranger in the middle of a tiny, not entirely well-kept women’s room in the middle of Nashville, Tennessee,

“I’d like to get to Italy one day.”

---

Finally, this is something I’ll get into more in the weeks to come, but I’ve arrived at that point in my life where I’m determined to get comfortable with the idea that I cannot impress everyone. I cannot please everyone. There are some people out there who will not reciprocate the outstretched hand (well, at least not metaphorically–people who literally don’t shake your hand are psychopaths) and simply dismiss you as unworthy of their time, much less friendship.

And that’s ok.

Even as I write that sentence, “that’s ok,” I instinctively question its truth. Is it really ok?

Yes, it must be, I respond.

Or perhaps that’s Joanne 3.0 replying.

Thoughts on this week’s newsletter?

---

Last Chance to Save!

Use code TKVSUMMER20 at checkout to save $20 on an annual membership to The Korean Vegan Kollective. Sale ends July 31.

---

Recipe Inspo.

---

What I’m…

Watching. I mean, of course I’m watching the Olympics! Aren’t you? Did you catch the opening ceremonies? What’s your favorite event so far? Did you SEE Simone Biles rock it? Aren’t you so excited about break dancing? Drop a comment and let me know what YOU think about the 2024 Summer Olympics! Comment Now!

Reading. I recently had the pleasure of hearing Tembi Locke, author of From Scratch, speak at an event and found her to be effervescent and lovely. I thus plan to journey my way through her entire story, though I’ve heard it is a total tearjerker…! And no, I haven’t watched the show, though I will almost certainly do that as well once I finish the book! Read Now!

---

Book Chat with Jessica Woo!

I’ll be joining TikTok star and debut author Jessica Woo, aka The Bento Box Queen, on August 3 at 12:00pm PT In Costa Mesa, CA to chat about parenthood, cooking, and, of course, making lunch for her kids! Pick up a ticket now and get a signed copy of her book and say hi!

---

Parting Thoughts.

The morning of my last day in Nashville, I got up at around 8 in the morning, so I had an hour to hit the gym before our first scheduled event (brunch with the Collective and members of Hello Sunshine). But as I shrugged into the comfy cotton robe hanging in the closet next to my bed, I wondered whether it would be better to skip the workout altogether and write instead.

And by “write,” I don’t mean write this newsletter, write the podcast, or even write my cookbook.

No, I wanted to write a bit of the novel I’d started working on a few months earlier.

It’s a little surreal for me to even be writing that: “the novel I’d started…”

Despite being a bonafide bookworm, I barely allowed myself to even dream I’d one day be a novelist. I had too many reasons not to even try: I was not a good enough writer. I was not a good enough storyteller. I do not have a degree in writing. And, there are sooooooo many people who are better than me.

But that’s the great thing about throwing yourself into a roomful of strangers: there are potentially rewarding possibilities.

One of the cool things about Hello Sunshine is that the company is crammed with book nerds. The women (and men) at this company love a good story and, more importantly, have a finely tuned and proven detector for quality storytellers (I mean, just look at the success of the Book Club, as well as the number of addictive shows that company has produced). So, to have their faith in me as a storyteller, as one of their favorite storytellers, and then to get a chance to meet a bunch of other really amazing storytellers…

Suffice it to say, that level of faith in me, by people I didn’t know, was necessary to get me to start writing something I candidly didn’t think I could ever write. I sat there in my hotel room and instead of huffing and puffing on the treadmill, I finished the first chapter of my book, Diana.

I’m 45 years old, y’all, and I’m pulling down all those dreams collecting dust on that shelf–pulling them down, cracking them open, and giving them a chance to inhale the sweet scent of possibility.

Social anxiety be damned. Imposter syndrome can go suck it.

I’m gonna do this.

Wishing you all the best,
-Joanne

Comments & Questions.