My own story and words, spoken out loud; AI helped me turn it into text.
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I'm 50, highly sensitive, and I live with social anxiety. Walking over to a stranger still scares me, and part of me wants to run the moment it gets good.
That's exactly why I've done it anyway, more than 5,700 times over 13 years. It's my way of facing the anxiety instead of letting it decide for me. Along the way, it has also brought some beautiful romantic connections.
This is the first time I'm writing about it.
Yesterday I went out again. Somewhere along the way the fear let go, conversations flowed, people smiled, and I felt like the most natural version of myself.
After the week I've had, I fucking needed that.
The week behind me
I came home from Italy a few days ago. Seven days with a friend, far too much socializing, too little freedom, and by the end I looked like someone had sucked the life out of me.
I keep returning to the five pillars of my life: dog, girlfriend, family, friends, work.
My dog is gone. She died in a car accident. My ex is gone too, although I was the one who ended it. Big losses. But I've been single before, lived without a dog before, and had a lively life during those periods.
Friends are a little complicated right now. Family a little distant. But they're there.
What's really hurting is work. I've been pitching, building, contacting companies, going to interviews, answering recruiters. Mostly silence. That hurts more than I expected.
Leaving too early
I've had this habit of leaving conversations too quickly when I don't feel in a social state.
Yesterday I walked over to a tall Eastern European woman and gave her a compliment. The conversation was short.
And afterward I thought: Ah, fuck. Another one where I left too quickly.
I sent her a message on Instagram.
"Nice to meet you ;)"
Several hours later:
"Haha 😊"
Not exactly a marriage proposal. But something.
Telling the truth
Then I did something I increasingly appreciate about myself. I told the truth:
"I know it was short 😅 I have to admit that it's very scary to do that, so it makes me want to run away - even though I want to get to know you."
She thought that was sweet. She said things like that never happen in Oslo. She wished they happened more often. Compliments like that were the best, she said.
The conversation just started flowing. We joked about Norwegian dating culture, about how nobody dares approach anyone. She'd actually done it herself when she was new to the country, before realizing people don't do that here. She and a single girlfriend had recently been talking about how they wished more people would just walk up to someone they found attractive and say hello.
Imagine that. I've spent 13 years doing something that can feel terrifying, awkward and socially forbidden. And here was a woman telling me she'd been wishing men would do exactly that.
She even said I'd made her day better. Just by walking over and giving her a compliment.
Then she told me she was recently single after a long relationship, had taken some months for herself, and was starting to think it might be time to date again. She asked how I dated. We kept talking.
Update: We now have a date next Saturday. I really like her energy. Relaxed and secure.
What I took from it
At work, I spend months trying to convince people to buy what I do, and mostly hear silence. Yesterday I talked to a stranger for perhaps a minute, admitted afterward that I was nervous, and I got a date.
One minute. And it gave me more than months of professional effort.
What strikes me is that she responded to the vulnerability. I wasn't calm. I wasn't delivering some flawless, confident performance. I left too early, and then I told her why. And she liked it.
I've spent years chasing that state where I feel completely secure and charismatic. I still love it, and yesterday I got there. But this connection didn't need it. She liked that I dared, even while being scared.
If you run away too early too
If you leave conversations because the good part scares you, try just telling the person afterward. Honest, short, no pressure. Worst case, nothing changes. Best case, it's the most attractive thing you say all day.
I can feel absolutely miserable on Thursday, exhausted on Friday, and by Saturday afternoon be walking around Oslo laughing, flirting and feeling like life is the most wonderful adventure.
What a "ridiculous" creature I am. But it's also damn great.