A friend invited me to a group event of about 8 people in a park where I’d know no one attending but the host. No matter how much work I’ve done on my social anxiety in the last 10 years the thought of attending makes me feel as if I’ve done no work at all. Walking into a group of strangers terrifies me. It plays out in my head in a familiar way: I walk up, everyone turns and looks at me, I feel really fucking awkward, my mind spins, I can’t decide where to sit and who to sit next to, meanwhile strangers are bombarding me with hellos and questions, I can’t make eye contact with anyone, I likely stumble on something and apologize a bunch, my cheeks are red, I breathe incredibly shallowly, I’m dying for the attention to shift from me to anyone or anything else. I want to be any place else.

(I’m reminded of my therapist recently telling me, “Walter, you’re much more sensitive than most people.” When I argued that I believed everyone had a similar sensitive inner experience his look told me immediately that I was definitely wrong.)

I’m tired of experiencing this kind of anxiety. I’m ready to grow out of having a need for it. Last night before bed I prayed that I might come to a sense of resolution on the issue in the morning’s Quaker meeting. So this morning I made some breakfast and coffee and I sat down at my computer about 10 minutes early for the meeting. Since I had some time to kill I decided to watch the last few minutes I had remaining of this week’s episode of Rupaul’s Drag Race. At the end of the episode the drag queens each had to explain why they felt they were the one who should take home the crown from the competition. One by one they poured their hearts out, explained why they should be the one picked, and I found it very moving. I then switched from the episode to the Quaker meeting and immediately began crying.

At first the tears felt random. Rupaul’s Drag Race was touching, sure, but I couldn’t make the connection in my mind as to where exactly the strong emotions were coming from. So I closed my eyes, I continued crying, and I anchored myself in the feelings in my chest. Soon, out of that sense of unknowing, a thought appeared in my mind, “I want them to like me.” It was clear. It rose right up for me to see and to contemplate. “I want them to like me.” I cried even harder. I saw the long thread of that desire run its course through my whole life. I journeyed in memories from kindergarten, to my dad and his friends, to elementary and high schools, to my coworkers, to my housemates, to this proposed meeting in the park with my friend’s friends. I just want them to like me. I just want to be liked! I’ve wanted to be liked from the beginning—and I’ve been an anxious wreck trying to make it happen.

To have that desire move from the darkness of the mind into the light of my awareness is a great gift. It means the process of undoing it has begun. I imagine in the coming days and weeks more pieces of this puzzle will “fall into place,” or, more accurately, fall out of place. More memories will come up, a greater sense of resolution will grow. Life will provide opportunities to practice moving through and moving past the anxiety.

How odd that a desire to be liked creates an anxiety that makes me so uncomfortable, feel so awkward, that it moves me from the goal of being liked that I want in the first place. In order to avoid the anxiety I end up avoiding social gatherings, avoid seeing friends. I’m reminded of one of my favorite Byron Katie quotes: “If I had a prayer, it would be this: God spare me from the desire for love, approval, and appreciation. Amen.” More and more I see the depth of meaning behind that prayer. What won’t we do to feel loved, feel approved of, feel appreciated, and be liked?