The hidden link between self-rejection and social unrest

“True attributes only occur when we present our true, imperfect selves to the world. Our sense of belongings cannot be greater than our self-acceptance levels.” ~Brené Brown

During lunch last year, my friend Jess confessed to me something that hit me in my gut because I was there too. It’s the exact same lies, the exact same fear.

Out of nowhere, she squealed, “I need to cancel.”

“What would you cancel?” I asked.

She shed tears. “I was at Jen’s wedding a few months ago, but this weekend. I can’t do that.”

As she sobbed, she confessed that she had already written a text message claiming food poisoning. The wedding was for her best friend since college, and she was bailing out. Not because of an emergency, but because she was afraid that she would be judged by other guests.

My stomach has fallen. Not because I was shocked, but because I saw myself in her confession.

In 2012, I did the exact same thing. My cousin, who I grew up, rocked the bedroom during family holidays and handed me a note during a boring family dinner – married. And I couldn’t… let myself go.

I still feel sick remembering it. At 29, I sat fully dressed in my bed at 3:42pm, staring at the invitation that had been in my fridge for months. The wedding began at 4:30am. It was a 25-minute drive. And I froze, literally feeling anxious and nauseous.

What happens if you can’t stand a little bit of a story? What would happen if my ex was with his new girlfriend? What happens if you notice people are gaining weight since Christmas? If so, what to do, what to do…

I texted my cousin claiming he had a 102 degree fever. I then ordered pizza, watched Netflix and tried to ignore the dents in my chest.

Yeah. It’s easy to stay home where you feel “safe.”

Painful paradox

Overcoming the confusion of my own social anxiety and helping others in the same struggle over the years has taught me something that blows my mind when I first realised it:

We reject ourselves before anyone else gets a chance.

Let me explain.

I think our social anxiety comes from fear of others’ judgment. But that’s not the case at all. We are actually worried that they will confirm that they have already thought about ourselves.

When I bailed out for that wedding, I was not really worried about what my family would think. I was worried that they would see the “truth” they already believed. I was worried that it wasn’t funny enough, well put, or worthy of belonging there.

So instead of risking that pain, I chose another pain, namely dissolution. I projected my own harsh self-judgment onto everyone else, assuming they view me the same way.

Talk about some crazy strategies! By “protecting” myself from potential rejection, I first assured my rejection by rejecting myself. What’s worse, I created real-world “proof” that I wasn’t a part of.

My friend got caught up in the same trap. She didn’t know that she would actually be judged at the wedding. But she was so sure of her own worthlessness that she thought everyone else would see it too.

The moment of the light bulb that changed everything

For most of my life, I have dispelled social anxiety as “just introverted.” It’s a useful label, right? It helped me avoid admitting that I was actually terrified.

Then my friend Kayla kicked me out over a cup of coffee, despite the filter being zero.

“Sandy,” she said, looking at me on the mug.

I almost choked up with the latte. it hurts.

That night I grabbed my old diary and began to track my thoughts before socializing. Holy crap. I spent hours doing mental exercises:

Rehearsals of conversations that don’t come up with a witty response to imaginary criticism have no plans to defend against judgments that no one has actually been obsessed with costume choices, in order to avoid potential comments.

I was exhausted before I left the house! And the worst part? I played both roles in these imaginary scenarios. Both are strict judges and people who are being judged.

We’ll talk about the rigged game.

So I decided to try something radical. My neighbor had a dinner party that weekend. Instead of my usual mental preparation work, I made an appointment to myself. Not as “funny sandy” or “impressive sandy” or any other version. just me.

I don’t lie – I was released on bail almost three times that day. But I went. And then something strange happened without all the normal self-judgment noise in my head. Instead of planning my next clever comment, I actually listened when people spoke. The conversation felt easy. I laughed more.

After that, my neighbor said, “Thank you for coming! I loved the story about my trip to Main. I should have some coffee someday.”

Wait, what? I hadn’t rehearsed the main story. It was me, who was rambling about what I loved. And she… did she like that?

This little experience has holed my belief system. Maybe people could really like me.

You’ll get to know the real you

So here’s what I thought: The path of social unrest has not been improved by forcing yourself into small talk and uncomfortable situations. It’s about knowing yourself. Under all your fear and protective armor you are the real thing.

When you actually know and like yourself, the opinions of others are less important. You develop a kind of internal anchor that will keep society’s water stable even when it gets cut off.

This journey to knowing yourself isn’t always Instagram worthy. It’s a hassle. But this is what worked for me.

1. Catch yourself in self-removal mode.

Start realizing when you come back from things because you are afraid of judgment. “Am I rejecting myself before giving other people the opportunity to accept me?”

Last month I nearly skipped a reunion with a high school friend because “no one would remember me anyway.” Classic self-rejection! Naming it helped me pause and rethink.

2. It challenges your core beliefs.

Where did you get the idea that you’re not enough? Most of us carry the beliefs we formed as 13-year-old troubling! Here’s some of me:

“I’m bored as long as I don’t enjoy people.” “When I help them with something, people like me.” “If I show them true feelings, people will think I’m too many.”

Once you have identified these beliefs, you can start collecting evidence that challenges them. My friend who missed the wedding realized that her core belief was “I do not belong to the celebration.” Back to the disaster of the 8th grade birthday party!

3. Talk to yourself so that you are not a jerk.

I had an explanation in my mind that I would never tell anyone else. “You’re so annoying. Why did you say that? Everyone is just accepting you.”

Learning to speak to yourself with basic decency was life-changing. When I’m worried now, I literally put my hand on my mind and say, “This is difficult. A lot of people feel this way. Can I support myself now?”

Does it look cheap? perhaps. But it works.

4. Not a cliff jump, but a baby step.

Recovery doesn’t mean you’ll jump into your most frightening social situation anytime soon. It’s like trying to run a marathon when you’ve never jogged around a block.

Start small. Maybe it’s:

Instead of the group, there will be a 30-minute appearance at a Coffee A party with one friend, with permission to leave the class focusing on common interests rather than socializing.

Each small victory builds evidence against your “I don’t belong” belief system.

5. Create a self-connection practice.

You need to check in regularly with yourself to quiet the noise of imaginary expectations and reconnect with who you truly are.

For me, it’s morning journaling with coffee before someone else wakes up. For my friend, it paints awful watercolors that no one sees. Find something that will help you hear your voice clearly.

Even a 4-minute intentional self-connection can begin to rebuild your relationship with yourself. (Believe me, I’ve made it a time!)

My cousin’s exchange

Life can sometimes be strangely generous. Three years after I missed my cousin’s first wedding, she remarried (to the same man – they eloped after a family drama at the first ceremony, then later decided to give a proper celebration).

When the invitation arrived, my palms quickly started to sweat. This was my chance to do things differently, but old horrors rang out.

However, this time there was a new tool. Instead of spiraling into “what-ifs,” I said, “If I just showed up like myself, what would happen?

I was terrified – it magically did not disappear – but I didn’t let it make my decision. I focused on how much I loved my cousin and regretted missing out on her first celebration.

Was the wedding perfect? no. Within the first hour I spilled red wine on my dress. I was stuck in a nasty conversation about politics with my uncle. I still sometimes felt the twing of “I don’t belong here”.

But I stayed. I danced horribly on the Cha Cha slides. I ate a cake.

At one point, my cousin grabbed my hand and said, “I’m so glad you made it to Sandy this time.” The true joy in her eyes struck me harder than I had ever had.

It’s enough to just show up occasionally.

The gift of just being you

For most of my life, I thought social anxiety was the constant part of my personality: “how I was wired.” But in the end, it wasn’t who I was. It was about how I learned to deal with myself.

Things changed when I began to treat myself with just a few of the kindness I showed to my friends. Not overnight. It’s not perfect. But really.

The less external verification is done, the more comfortable it becomes on my skin. And, strangely enough, I started making more authentic connections.

Look, I’m still nervous before a big social event. I still find myself falling into old mental prep work from time to time. But now I can laugh at it and gently redirect it.

If you are someone who tends to hide rather than show up, listen to this:

The judgments you are so afraid often come from you first. By rejecting yourself, you deny others (and trust me that the real you, you are actually pretty amazing). The more you practice authentic display, the easier it becomes.

Your presence – your real, unfiltered, sometimes Auquward presence – is worth sharing. Don’t let your harsh inner critics take your world away from your unique perspective and energy.

This is probably the biggest plot twist of the whole story.

It’s strange how it works.