Stepping out of my Comfort-zone

Photos by Grace Goldman 

We’ve all seen the posters plastered on classroom walls like –“Be a unicorn in a field of horses!” All of these kinds of signs have the same overall message, to stress standing out and being unique. But I like to live my life as the horse, not the unicorn.

Not to say I don’t I have my unicorn, or bold moments. Still, when it comes to social situations I revert right back to the boring brown horse. I text my friends to make sure my outfit matches their level of dressiness perfectly. I avoid eye contact with Costco employees out of fear that they will ask me to come over and try a sample. I leave my house 20 minutes too early for every event so I don’t walk in late with all eyes on me.

My fear of standing out has set me back many times throughout my life. New experiences are met with stomach knots and racing cynical thoughts – assuming I even get the guts to do them.

I needed immersion therapy – a tip toe into the waters of discomfort.

Hair

In seventh grade, if I saw a centimeter of armpit hair on one of the girls at dance class, I’d look away and tell myself they needed to shave. But why? I guess because up until now I thought shaving was the only option – I just went with the societal norm. I had become so wrapped up in the social standard that says “girls must shave their legs and armpits” that I didn’t even stop to think for myself.  

Now in the beginning of spring – shorts season – this was the time to try not shaving out. There was no use in doing it halfway.

I went one month without shaving my legs and armpits with the rule that I couldn’t tell anyone why – being able to tell people “I was only doing it for Harbinger” would give me too obvious of an out of this uncomfortable situation.

Day one of wearing shorts for the first time, I felt like the red apple in a sea of granny smiths. I know using a folder, lunch box and jacket to stack up around and hide my legs like a shield looked more awkward than hairy legs, but I panicked. Dance class was worse – I couldn’t help but move my arms down during crunches when I saw our teacher do a double take in my direction.

I can’t be sure if people really noticed. For me it felt so obvious I don’t know how they couldn’t but I realize this could have just been my mind driving the discomfort.

The glances made me want to run into the bathroom and never come out –I learned I have a lot to work on to even be comfortable in my own skin.

As the month went on, the leg and armpit hair became something I thought less and less about. It was like dyeing your hair – at first it’s noticeable and new but then slowly it becomes the norm. Glances from people just made me more annoyed and less self conscious.

While I never felt completely comfortable and I still tried to put my arms down on occasion in dance when someone looked my direction, it was no longer this new scary thing I had to overcome but instead a gradual process of accepting something new – just as any new thing can be if you give it enough time.

Music

I love screaming the lyrics to  “Should’ve Said No!” by Taylor Swift while driving with the windows down just like any average teenage girl. But as soon as I think someone might be able to hear my music, either through my car window or out my ear buds, I turn it way down and triple check how loud it is.

I convinced myself people would judge me or change their probably non-existent opinion of me based on something small like the music I listen to. If “God’s Plan” – or another popular song – were playing, maybe I wouldn’t be so self conscious. But when “Jesus Take the Wheel” comes on my country playlist (not ironically might I add) I immediately get red in the face and hit “skip” before Carrie Underwood can come in.

I thought challenging myself to let the world hear a little more of my music would be a good way to get over my fear of being judged for my music taste.

After a month of trying to feel comfortable in my own passions, I have a long way to go. At the start, I physically could not stop myself from turning my music all the way down while driving past students in the parking lot. I knew in my head that this would be going against everything I worked for but my self-consciousness took over.

But I became more aware of my goal and at stoplights I would start to turn my music down a little less each time. The further I got the more motivated I was to keep going.

This helped me to realize that  I need to be confident and embrace the uniqueness I have to offer. If I live my life turning down my music, avoiding speaking my mind or hiding away from new opportunities I won’t attract people who appreciate who I really am. I won’t be able to express all I have to offer if I’m busy masking it.

This was a baby step and brought to light how much I need to work on being unapologetically me. By ripping off that security blanket I’m able to see how timid I really am and where that is holding me back.

PDA

I’ll admit sometimes I only follow people on Instagram to see their cute coffee dates and sweet Prom asks. Lord knows I swoon for the cheesy captions like “these sunsets don’t compare to your smile.” But when it comes to my own boyfriend I do my best to hide him as to not be “annoying.”

After reading an article by the Huffington Post on how PDA is supposed to improve your relationship, I decided for the sake of journalism (and my high school relationship) to try it.

I started by holding hands with my boyfriend at my little sister’s dance competition. That was a big nope. I felt my body cringe when my boyfriend started playing with my hair. It wasn’t the time, place or mood.

Holding hands while twelve-year-olds twerk in two pieces might make anyone uncomfortable but I realized I don’t even see myself lifting up the armchair to snuggle during “Titanic” at the movies.

The key to overcoming my discomfort proved to be baby steps. Because I was actively thinking about pushing myself to be affectionate in public, I began to see a change. I started doing things like reaching for his had while walking in Westport with friends or leaning on him while watching “Death in Paradise” with my family.

This made me think about why I had cared so much about what other people would think. I realized I need to start by not being in my own head and expressing my happiness without worrying about how it’s perceived.

Conclusion

Maybe I’ll let my hair grow out a little longer than usual this summer. Maybe I’ll only turn my music halfway down when “Your Man” comes on. Even though I’d like to shave more often than once a month, I know that I can be bold like that. Those little things I accomplished (or tried to) will help me grow to do bigger, more important things such as competing in the slam poetry competition in two weeks. I have survived feelings of vulnerability and uncomfortableness and came out with no bruises. Hopefully in the next years I won’t think twice about just being me.