Tiny Buddha

Tag: awkward

  • From Awkward to Authentic: How to Show Up as Your True Self in Love and Life

    From Awkward to Authentic: How to Show Up as Your True Self in Love and Life

    “Don’t make yourself small for anyone. Be the awkward, funny, intelligent, beautiful little weirdo that you are. Don’t hold back. Weird it out.” ~Unknown

    You know that moment when you’re mid-conversation, and your brain throws up a flashing neon sign that says, “Abort mission! Abort mission!”

    Meanwhile, you’re left replaying your words like a bad karaoke performance, cringing at every note.

    Or when you’re swiping through dating profiles and mutter, “Why does everyone here look like they’re auditioning for a toothpaste ad?” We’ve all been there. Here’s the thing… we’re so darn busy trying to present a polished, “perfect” version of ourselves that we forget to actually be ourselves, and that’s where the magic happens. Really!

    Authenticity isn’t just some woo-woo concept; it’s scientifically proven to make you more magnetic! When you show up as the real you, things start to shift—in a good way. Let’s ditch the awkwardness and get real, like, laugh-at-your-own-texts and wear-mismatched-socks real.

    A few years ago, I found myself staring at my reflection, frustrated by the need to always have it all together.

    I’d perfected the art of appearing confident, but inside, I felt disconnected from myself, from others, and even from love. That’s when it hit me—my constant reacting to situations, trying to please people, and molding myself into what I thought would be attractive was working against me.

    First, I stopped reacting and started being proactive. Instead of waiting for people to validate me, I took ownership of how I wanted to show up.

    I made sure my actions matched my words. (That’s the true definition of authenticity after all.)

    If I said I valued deep connections, I wasn’t going to hide behind small talk anymore.

    If I said I was looking for a meaningful relationship, I wasn’t going to waste my time with people who were just looking for something casual.

    Then, I gave my dating profile a reality check. No more vague “I love travel, laughter, and good company” fluff.

    I got specific about who I was, the good, the quirky, and the deal breakers. I made it easy for the wrong matches to filter themselves out before we even got to the first date.

    The result? Instead of random, lukewarm connections, I started attracting men who actually got me…

    Me! The real me! Men who read my profile and thought, “Yes! This is my kind of woman.”

    And you know what? It worked. (Insert my no rhythm happy dance)

    My advice? Get clear on your ‘you-ness.’ What makes you you? Is it your laugh-snort combo? The way you know every word to a nineties boy band song? Whatever it is, own it.

    Authenticity isn’t about being flawless; it’s about being aligned with your values and showing up in a way that feels true. Vanessa Van Edwards calls it your “connection currency,” and trust me, it’s priceless.

    Think of your values as your personal Wi-Fi signal. The stronger it is, the more clearly the right people will find and connect with you. No buffering needed.

    Jot down three values you live by, whether that’s kindness, humor, or never skipping dessert. Now ask yourself: Am I living them loud and proud, or are they stuck in airplane mode?

    Ever felt like you’re auditioning for America’s Got Talent on a first date?

    Nobody’s handing out trophies for Most Impressive Overthinker. The harder you try to impress, the more disconnected you’ll feel. People connect with realness, not rehearsed lines or “look-how-cool-I-am” antics.

    The right people don’t need you to dazzle them. They need you to make them feel comfortable. So, lean into being a little awkward; it’s endearing.

    Remember, connection over perfection!

    Next time you’re meeting someone new, replace “What if they don’t like me?” with “What if I don’t like them?” Now you’re the main character. How good does that feel!

    Here’s a fun fact: Your body language speaks before you do. Slouching and crossing your arms? You might as well wear a sign that says, “Don’t talk to me.” Meanwhile, open, confident body language says, “I’m approachable, and I know where the snacks are.”

    Master the “power pose” before any big moment. Stand tall, hands on hips, channel your inner superhero. Two minutes, and you’ll feel unstoppable (or at least like you can handle small talk).

    Nobody connects over surface-level fluff. People want stories that make them feel something, whether it’s a belly laugh or an “OMG, me too” moment. Share the time you accidentally texted your boss instead of your crush or how you once tried to “play it cool” and tripped over your own feet. Vulnerability wins.

    Vulnerability doesn’t mean oversharing. It means inviting someone into your world, not dragging them into your emotional baggage claim.

    If you’re ever in doubt, ask yourself: Would I enjoy hearing this story? If yes, share away. If no, maybe save it for your diary.

    Perfection is overrated. (And exhausting, to be honest.) Did you spill coffee on your shirt before a date? Laugh about it. Did you accidentally wave at someone who wasn’t waving at you? Congratulations, you’re human. Studies (and common sense) show that people find you more relatable when you own your imperfections.

    Think of your quirks as your personal brand. The spilled coffee? That’s your logo. The laugh-snort? Your tagline. Embrace it. It’s unforgettable.

    My first attempt at online dating was like trying to start a campfire in the rain—awkward, messy, and definitely not warm. My profile had over-filtered photos (hello, Insta face!) and a bio that could’ve been written by an HR bot. It attracted matches, sure, but none who actually matched me. I was looking for MY person.

    Then I stopped trying to be someone else and just showed up as myself: goofy, outdoorsy, and a little obsessed with Nutella. My bio became a reflection of my real personality, and my photos were candid moments that made me smile. It worked. The real, authentic matches started rolling in… real, warm, lovely men! Yes, they exist.

    Showing up as your true self doesn’t mean you’ll click with everyone, and that’s the point. Authenticity isn’t about being liked by the masses; it’s about finding your people (or your person) who love you for you.

    So, go ahead, wear the mismatched socks, tell the terrible joke, and let your quirks shine. Because when you’re real, the right people don’t just notice you; they remember you.

    Because your quirks aren’t just lovable… they’re magnetic.

  • I Felt Like I Didn’t Belong: 5 Lessons from a Former Misfit

    I Felt Like I Didn’t Belong: 5 Lessons from a Former Misfit

    “I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.” ~Maya Angelou

    In my final year of high school, I had a horrible breakup. I was heavily attached to my girlfriend because, with her, for the first time in my life, I felt like I belonged. Growing up in Germany, of Arabic roots, made me feel like I belonged nowhere. I didn’t feel German nor Arabic.

    With her, I finally thought I had a place somewhere. So when this relationship ended, all I wanted was to escape. I hoped a change of location would solve my problems. So, after graduation, I packed my stuff, booked a one-way ticket, and fled to Australia.

    My early days in Australia were anything but idyllic. Arriving there, not knowing anyone and barely able to communicate in English, I felt lost like never before. During the first month, I was constantly battling self-doubt. It seemed as if this was the first time anyone had ever experienced the harshness that can accompany travel. I felt like a loser.

    Everybody around me seemed to enjoy their trips. They seemed to have found their place. Every conversation I had felt so awkward.

    I was deeply ashamed of my English, so I isolated myself. I wanted to go home, but after telling everybody I was planning to leave, I promised myself not to give up. But the truth was, again, like in Germany, I felt like a misfit. The sense of isolation I had felt back home was still with me. It was so alive. It was like living in a nightmarish loop—unable to escape my loneliness and alienation.

    Two months into my stay, I sat on a bench in Sydney, consuming junk food and battling the urge to give up. Nothing had changed. I felt out of place, had made no friends, and was utterly miserable.

    At that low point, I was reflecting on my time in Germany and I had a realization that, looking back at it now, changed my life: I had taken my problems with me. My issues were about more than just a specific location. They were within me. I was responsible for my misery, isolation, and inability to fit in. The problems I had left in Germany had taken a new form in Australia.

    This insight was crushing but made me stand up from this bench with a new sense of resolve.

    The following day I checked into a new hostel. I promised myself to keep trying, push myself to speak English, and make a conscious effort to form connections with fellow travelers. It wasn’t easy at first, but I became more comfortable speaking as time passed. I started to trust myself more. I began to make friends, people started asking me if I wanted to join them on trips, and people were interested in my past.

    Following my realization on this bench, this month was one of my life’s best. In this month, I made deep, lasting friendships that I still have to this day.

    Ultimately, I stayed in Australia for almost a year and had a great time. I left Germany and was homesick, and I left Australia with newly gained confidence and trust in myself. Since then, I’ve traveled to over twenty-five countries. It became my nature to go to new places, and I no longer have the same issues fitting into a new context.

    Also, I changed my relationship with Germany. Every time I go back, I embrace and like it. Ironically, the attempt to escape my roots formed a deeper connection to my German and Arabic origins. I smile when I look back. I was so ready to give up. I was at the lowest point of my life. One realization, one thought on this bench, changed the course of my life.

    Now I want to share with you the key lessons I learned from my time in Australia.

    1. Trust life.

    Life puts us in difficult situations that ultimately lead us to grow. My time in Australia was a gift, particularly those first two challenging months. They forced me to confront my internal struggles, the issues I had been unwilling to face. I believe that life knows what it is doing and is working for us, not against us. This holds true for me to this day.

    2. Take responsibility.

    In Germany, I had a habit of playing the victim, blaming my circumstances and culture clash for my unhappiness. While those issues were real, acknowledging that I was also a part of the problem was liberating. Understanding that I had the power to change my situation was the first step toward actual change.

    3. Be persistent.

    In Australia, I came close to giving up and returning home. Looking back, I realize that would have been a huge mistake. The best year of my life and experiences that changed the course of my life followed that initial struggle, reminding me that persisting through tough times can lead to beautiful outcomes.

    4. Hard times are necessary for growth.

    Those two months in Australia were some of the hardest in my life. The loneliness I felt was crushing. However, looking back, those challenging times were also when I grew the most. I developed resilience and a better understanding of myself, which I wouldn’t trade for anything.

    5. Be a blank sheet.

    One of the most powerful lessons I learned throughout my travels was the power of approaching each new situation like a blank sheet.

    For far too long, I allowed my past experiences and hurts to dictate my present and future. I was constantly recreating my past wherever I went, not giving my life story a chance to change or evolve. I carried heavy, invisible baggage of past failures, rejections, and loneliness that kept me rooted in a narrative no longer serving me.

    It wasn’t about forgetting or denying what had happened but not letting it control my present and future.

    Like a blank sheet, allow yourself to be open, to receive new experiences, change, and learn.

  • How Mindfulness Made Me an Empowered Introvert (and How It Can Help You)

    How Mindfulness Made Me an Empowered Introvert (and How It Can Help You)

    “Introverts live in two worlds: We visit the world of people, but solitude and the inner world will always be our home.” ~Jenn Granneman, The Secret Lives of Introverts: Inside Our Hidden World

    Never at any point in my life did I think I was an introvert. I always thought I was just a regular kid flowing with life’s experiences just like everyone else, and there was nothing strange about me.

    That was until I started being told I was too quiet, serious-faced, shy, and a nerd. I liked, and still do like, my own space and doing things by myself or with a very close friend. Spending time at home surfing the web, learning new things, and obsessing over the latest technology has always been my thing.

    I never liked the idea of being around groups of people, attending parties, and socializing for long periods of time because I felt weighed down and lacked energy for such activities.

    I would always feel anxious and self-conscious walking outside, and whenever someone approached and started talking to me, things would end up being awkward no matter how hard I tried to keep a steady conversation going.

    Such was my life. As I kept growing, it became so much of a bother that it started affecting how I perceived myself.

    I became more anxious—stressed about socializing and being outside, making friends, and even expressing myself in serious situations like job interviews.

    I also had a bad temper back then, and whenever I got angry, I turned into this ugly and angry bear that could not be calmed down by anyone. After my moments of anger, regret would slowly creep in, and I would chew myself up for all the mean things I’d said and done to others.

    “This is not the kind of life I want to live to my old age,” I thought to myself. Being the introverted nerd I was, I decided to do deep research and look for permanent solutions to change the situation for the better.

    In the research phase I stumbled upon the practice of mindfulness. The idea of training your mind to remain in the present moment and being aware of your thoughts, feelings, and sensations was kind of interesting to me, and I felt it could work for me.

    So, I took up the responsibility of learning about mindfulness and how I could get started and use it to improve upon myself.

    A few years down the line, after immersing myself in the practice and doing it daily, I have seen much improvement in my life and how I do things, and I couldn’t be prouder of myself.

    I have become more empowered and equipped to handle the aspects of my life that I had problems with before, and I’ve seen good results with them.

    5 Ways Mindfulness Empowered Me as an Introvert

    Here are the five ways mindfulness changed and improved my life for the better.

    1. Mindfulness made me feel comfortable in my introvert skin.

    Initially, I thought the only way my life was going to improve was by training myself to be extroverted.

    I had even created a strategy of how I would slowly become more talkative and vulnerable—how I would force myself to attend more social events, talk to as many people as I could, and tell them everything about my life. Then they would feel I’m being open with them and in turn open up to me, and life would become amazing.

    Looking back, that strategy was designed to help me live a lie. It was supposed to teach me to be everything besides myself, and I’m glad I didn’t get to execute the plan because I discovered mindfulness shortly after considering it.

    After practicing mindfulness for a while, I became aware of my nature as an introvert and how I did things in my life. I noticed that while there were many drawbacks to introversion, there were also many advantages.

    And extroverts face problems that spring from their extroversion just as introverts get criticized for their introversion.

    As an introvert, I often appeared to be boring and quiet, so many people disliked me, but a friend told me that because he was an extrovert, he had many fake friends who hurt him.

    That’s when I discovered no side is better than the other. Introversion and extroversion both had advantages and disadvantages.

    With that realization, I became comfortable being the introvert I was, and I thought to myself, “I’m going to hold onto my nature as an introvert. It may not be perfect, but at least I won’t be living a lie by pretending to be someone I’m not.”

    2. Mindfulness made me more confident.

    Self-acceptance is perhaps the best thing I got from mindfulness because it helped me feel comfortable with who I was, and as a result, my confidence increased.

    I no longer believed that it was bad to be an introvert and instead, focused more on the positive side of it. I also came to learn that extroverts envied me just as I envied them.

    While I thought being an extrovert was cool, I remembered that extroverted friends had once told me they wished they were like me. They thought my quietness gave me a mysterious personality, and being comfortable staying alone for long periods also made me powerful and independent. Remembering this added to my overall confidence and self-acceptance.

    I went from “Man, I wish I was more social and talkative!” to “Man, I love how I’m quiet and comfortable being alone!”

    Also, being aware of the anxious and stressful thoughts and feelings I had when I was among people helped me realize that they were baseless, and they were just that—thoughts and feelings. Things that would keep coming and going.

    They were neither the reality nor the truth.

    I had created exaggerated scenarios in my mind, which made me feel anxious and awkward around people. By simply being aware of them, without doing anything, they became powerless and the social anxiety slowly disappeared from my life.

    3. Mindfulness gave me mental clarity and focus.

    By learning to be aware of my thoughts, sensations, and feelings in the present moment, I had fewer thoughts and was also able to have more control over my feelings. Fewer thoughts, especially the anxiety-inducing thoughts, translated to more mental clarity and focus.

    Instead of having negative thoughts about how other people perceived me when I was interacting with them, or about how awkward I felt talking to them, I became more open and aware of the experience of speaking with people, and began going out more without overthinking it.

    That slight change of approach made it possible for me to look people in the eye when talking to them and keep a normal and steady conversation without someone realizing I was once a “socially disabled” introvert.

    On top of that, the reduction of distracting thoughts and the emotional control I got from the practice helped me improve my level of productivity in my education and work.

    It turns out when you have fewer thoughts to explore, your mind can maintain focus for a long period and your attention span increases.

    4. Mindfulness increased my self-awareness.

    By being constantly mindful throughout the day, I was able to understand myself better. I discovered the specific areas in my life I was good at as well as those I needed to work on.

    For instance, I noticed that when speaking to people, I would think before I spoke. This helped me avoid the embarrassment of saying thoughtless words that would make me look like a fool or hurt the person I was conversing with.

    I also realized that while I was strong with my communication, I lacked when it came to taking action. I took many thoughtless actions, which got me into trouble.

    With the tiny observations I made, and through the reflection of better approaches combined with determined and disciplined effort, I was able to improve and became a better person.

    5. Mindfulness brought me peace and inner harmony.

    Within a couple of years, I went from a socially awkward, constantly anxious, self-loathing person to a self-loving, more confident, mentally and emotionally stable person, which helped me feel more peaceful and in sync with myself.

    I didn’t have to pretend or think and do things from an extrovert’s point of view so that I would be accepted. I accepted myself as I was and discovered how other people love my introverted traits, and this brought me a feeling of satisfaction with myself.

    Moreover, I was free to think and act according to my nature, and that has made everything in my life work in harmony.

    How I Made Mindfulness Work in My Life (And How You Can Too)

    After researching and reading articles, watching videos, and listening to podcasts and teachings on mindfulness, I decided to take action.

    I began with mindfulness meditation because it is the easiest and most rewarding first step to mindfulness. It not only helps you learn how mindfulness feels and how to cultivate it but also trains you to be mindful without much effort.

    It is even more rewarding when you use guided meditations for mindfulness meditation. I worked with guided meditations for a couple of months before I could begin meditating on my own, and I saw good results.

    A guided mindfulness meditation will walk you through your whole experience, with the help of an expert who’ll explain how to relax your mind and body so you can have a fulfilling session.

    It’s simply the best place to start building mindfulness in your life.

    I began meditating for one or two minutes and increased the duration to five minutes, then ten, and then twenty as I felt more at ease with the practice.

    After I got comfortable with meditating, I started incorporating mindfulness into my daily life, practicing while eating, listening and speaking, showering, walking, and working.

    These techniques really improved my level of mindfulness and helped me be more aware of myself. The best approach is to begin incorporating these techniques into your life one by one. Begin with the one you feel is easiest to work with and stick to it for a few weeks. Then take up another technique and do the same until you find it natural to do all of them throughout the day.

    The goal is to do the regular activities more mindfully, and as a result, increase your moments of mindfulness through the day.

    I have seen mindfulness turn my life around as an introvert, and if I was able to become that empowered through it, I believe you can too. I invite you to work closely with mindfulness and see how it can spice up your life.

  • 7 Reasons I Was Scared to Take up Space and How I Boosted My Confidence

    7 Reasons I Was Scared to Take up Space and How I Boosted My Confidence

    “You are allowed to take up space. Own who you are and what you want for yourself. Stop downplaying the things you care about, the hopes you have.” ~Bianca Sparacino

    I deserve to take up more space. Plain and simple. By taking the space I deserve, I further build the confidence I need to live a rich life that resonates with who I truly am.

    Over the past several years, I’ve had to navigate a new life after hard breakups, difficult career transitions, and moving back home. I’ve had to face the feeling that I’m not doing enough. That I am not enough. That I don’t deserve to take up space. To be seen, felt, and heard with all of the faults that scatter among all my strengths.

    I know I owe it to myself to show up. I know I owe it to myself to be present as I am. I know I owe it to myself to finally come out from the back curtains and take center stage where my heart can shine.

    I deserve to take more space in my presence around others and to be truly seen.

    I deserve to take more space in my voice in a loud world and to be truly heard.

    I deserve to take more space in my heart and take care of my needs first.

    Because I know these things, I now try not to make my voice small when I want to speak so loudly that it hurts.

    I try not to be apologetic for taking the time to express what I feel to others when the person I should be accommodating first is myself.

    I try not to bottle up my emotions because the longer I do, the longer it will take to get past ignoring them.

    After taking moments to pause and breathe, I gently remind myself again that I am enough. That I deserve to speak from the heart and to be heard. That my thoughts, opinions, and voice matter.

    Over time, I’ve recognized the reasons why I lacked the confidence to take the space I deserved, and I’ve also identified what I need to do to change.

    7 Reasons I Was Scared to Take up Space (And How I Changed)

    1. I lacked confidence in my communication and overused apologetic terms, which minimized my opinions.

    I used to say sorry a lot in my interactions, if I thought I’d made a mistake or I interrupted a conversation, for example.

    Research shows that when you say sorry, people tend to think less of you. I may have thought that I was displaying myself as a nice and caring person, but I was actually sending the message that I lacked confidence.

    “Sorry” isn’t the only word I needed to watch out for. These 25 limiting words diminished my statements. For example, with the word “just”—if I was “just wondering” or telling someone it will “just take me a minute.”

    There’s no need to use minimizing words. My needs and opinions are as important as others’. I built more awareness and confidence by flipping the script and being firmer in my conversations. I started saying phrases like “Thanks for pointing that out” or “Here, let me get out of the way” or “It will be a minute.”

    2. I thought it was unkind to say no, even if something didn’t align with my priorities.

    By consciously saying no to one area, I am confidently saying yes to another more important one. I don’t want to give my space away without consideration of what the true cost is. I need to protect my time like it is my most valuable commodity.

    Saying no is not a natural response for many of us, though. We often feel nervous about creating conflict with others and tend to value others’ needs more highly than our own.

    At least for me, I have learned to please others by being kind and helping those who ask for it. I tend to say yes because I want to be seen as caring, selfless, and generous. I didn’t realize that the ability to say no is closely linked to self-esteem.

    So how did I start to say no without feeling bad about it? I kept my responses simple and to the point. I learned how to strengthen my delivery and not over-apologize.

    Sometimes, when I provide too many details, I get caught up in the why behind my decision to say no. I’ve learned that there’s no need to overanalyze, and that I have the right to say no as much as yes. I just need to remember that I’m not saying no to the person, I’m saying no to the request. Also, I’ve learned not to take someone else’s no personally. Sometimes their no means “no for now.”

    3. I didn’t realize my thoughts can contribute to a richer conversation.

    Sometimes, it’s been easier for me to keep quiet and listen to the entire conversation without saying a word. I’ve learned that I have a seat at the table, and with every word I speak, the more confidence I gain.

    I know I have many valuable thoughts that could add a new perspective to the conversation at hand. Whether it’s in a work meeting or hanging out with friends, I consciously remind myself not to hold back my voice.

    The world benefits when we all find our voice. Whether it’s to elevate good ideas or discuss alternatives to bad ones, speaking up is how we arrive at the best outcomes.

    4. I struggled with being vulnerable because I worried about what people thought of me.

    Vulnerability is consciously choosing not to hide your emotions and desires from others.

    Being vulnerable with others is scary and uncomfortable for me because it’s letting go of what people think of me. When I’m not afraid of what other people think, that’s when true confidence begins to grow.

    Vulnerability bridges connections and helps me build confidence in the relationships I am creating. Vulnerability frees me up to share personal stories that others can relate to. Vulnerability sparks conversations that allow me to move beyond fear to a place of shared experiences.

    Connecting with others by being vulnerable—as opposed to overcompensating and trying to get everyone to like you—will result in some of the best interactions and relationships of your life.

    5. I felt insecure about sharing my dreams and achievements along with my mistakes and failures.

    I needed to let myself be excited and proud in order to build confidence in what I’ve accomplished. Sometimes I have to be my own cheerleader to keep the confidence going and be okay with that.

    By sharing my successes, I hope to inspire others and kickstart them in a direction that helps them on their journey.

    By sharing my failures, I accept the mistakes I’ve made along the way. I’ve built confidence by taking the lessons learned and continuing to strive toward my dreams.

    6. I felt uncomfortable asking for help.

    It’s hard to ask people for help. Like most people, I’ve been taught to carry all the weight on my own. To be independent. To be self-sufficient. When you ask for help, people may say no, but it doesn’t hurt to simply ask. Each ask will give you confidence for the next.

    Most people like helping others by sharing their time, knowledge, and experiences. I realized I am in a village where others look to help me, which in turn helps the entire village.

    Asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness, it’s a sign of strength. Asking for help is uncomfortable because it’s a behavior I wasn’t used to. But it gives me the confidence to know others are there along the way to support my dreams and goals.

    7. I didn’t realize how much I have to offer.

    There are times I thought I didn’t have much to offer to others, but I now know I do. I possess a wealth of experiences that can help others live a brighter, more confident life. Whether it’s sharing how I aced a job interview or how I created a fine-tuned budget, there are people out there seeking my help.

    As I started to offer my knowledge to others, I was surprised by how many people I began to help. By being of service to others, I built confidence that I have more to give than I realized. I am a wealth of knowledge and experience that can help others build their own confidence.

    —

    I’ve learned that my thoughts and needs matter—that I matter. That I can speak up unapologetically, say no when I need to, share my successes and failures, ask for help when I need it, and make a real difference for other people. I just need to let myself take up space, knowing I deserve it, and the world is better off because of it.

  • How to Set Boundaries in Awkward Situations with Strangers

    How to Set Boundaries in Awkward Situations with Strangers

    “Boundaries aren’t about punishing. Boundaries are about creating safety for yourself.” ~Sheri Keffer

    The person sitting beside you at the bar keeps talking to you despite your obvious disinterest. The flirty Uber driver mentions—three times—how beautiful you are. Your cousin’s new boyfriend gives you a too-long hug with wandering hands.

    In awkward situations with strangers, we tend to hope that non-verbal cues will be sufficient to set a boundary. We use silence, crossed arms, uncomfortable laughter, and glares to communicate discomfort. But some folks cannot—or will not—take the hint.

    Here, we find ourselves at a crossroads: We can either set clear verbal boundaries or tolerate the uncomfortable behavior indefinitely.

    For the longest time, I struggled to set boundaries in awkward situations with strangers. Throughout childhood, I was taught how to be kind, nice, and open-minded—but never how to have difficult conversations and advocate for myself. I worried that setting firm boundaries was mean, so I tolerated uncomfortable behavior in silence, which allowed the awkward situations to escalate even further.

    Eventually, I realized that setting firm boundaries is a form of verbal self-defense. It is our responsibility to advocate for, and protect, our time and space.

    My goal for this article is to demystify the process of boundary-setting and offer concrete suggestions of language you can use to be clear and direct. These are phrases I’ve crafted, edited, and re-crafted over years of boundary-setting practice. My hope is to help you make awkward situations as not awkward as possible.

    Before we dive in, let’s get clear on five key principles for boundary-setting:

    1. When we refuse to set a boundary, we prioritize other people’s comfort over our own needs. Setting boundaries is a courageous act of putting ourselves first. It’s a great way to break the people-pleasing habit and practice the art of self-care and verbal self-defense.

    2. Difficult honesty is not unkindness. It’s not mean to stand up for yourself. It’s actually the most truthful and authentic way to interact with others.

    3. You can manage your boundaries or manage other people’s feelings, but you can’t do both. The bottom line is, your boundaries might make people feel frustrated or resentful. That burden is not yours to bear. As the saying goes, “The only people who get upset about you setting boundaries are the ones who benefited from you having none.”

    4. It’s not your job to protect people from feeling uncomfortable. Remember: the folks imposing on your space aren’t giving your comfort a second thought—so don’t twist yourself into knots trying to protect their feelings. As Registered Clinical Counselor Jordan Pickell says, “It makes sense for people to feel bad and weird when they have crossed a line.”

    5. Safety first. If you ever feel unsafe or threatened, do whatever you need to do to get to safety. Don’t be a boundary-setting hero.

    For consistency, the examples below use “Bob” as the generic name of our boundary-violator. However, folks of all genders, ages, races, etc., violate boundaries.

    Certain suggested phrases are direct and firm. Others are lighter and playful. Experiment with the language to find the tone that works best for you.

    Case #1: The Handsy Hugger

    Maybe it’s an eager fan who approaches you after an open mic performance. Maybe it’s your step brother’s uncle who you see twice a year at family barbecues.

    Handsy Huggers comes in many shapes and forms, but they all have one thing in common: they hug you for an uncomfortably long time with wandering hands.

    My recommendation: In a scenario that runs the risk of uncomfortable physical contact, it’s better to avoid a hug altogether. Next time a Handsy Hugger approaches you, give yourself permission not to enter his outstretched arms. Hang back, offer a smile (or not), and when he looks at you quizzically, say, “I’m not in the mood for a hug today, Bob.” In the next breath, redirect the conversation to literally any other topic.

    Case #2: The Flirty Uber Driver

    I have been asked, by two separate Uber drivers, if I would consider marrying them. I’ve sat in the backseat as Uber drivers have commented on how much they liked my clothing and eyed me from the rearview.

    When you’re in someone’s Uber, you can’t exactly escape to the ladies room. Some drivers will continue bantering with you even if you put headphones on and stare blankly out the window.

    My recommendation: Depending on your mood, you can use a casual or direct approach.

    • Casual: “It’s been nice talking with you, but I’ve had a long day and don’t really feel like talking right now.”

    • Direct: “To be honest, your comments are making me uncomfortable. I’d prefer not to talk right now.”

    (Note: If your rideshare driver makes you feel unsafe or threatened, report them through the app immediately.)

    Case #3: The Non-Stop Texter

    You meet a nice man named Bob at the bar or on a hike. You exchange numbers. Within hours, your phone begins buzzing. Bob asks you a litany of questions. He sends a greeting every morning. Throughout the day, your phone erupts with Bob’s favorite Youtube videos of tap-dancing cats.

    You don’t reply, but your silence doesn’t deter Bob from sending text after text after text. You consider ignoring his messages wholesale, but you’re concerned that if you run into Bob in public, you’ll feel guilty and awkward.

    My recommendation: Despite the rising popularity of cell phone boundaries, some folks seem to feel entitled to your time and space via your inbox. They’re not. You’ve got two options:

    • If you hope to keep this person as a friend but adjust how often you text, try this: “Bob, I like to have healthy boundaries with my phone and I’m not interested in texting this often. Next time we meet up, let’s have a conversation about our expectations for communicating when we’re not together.”

    • If you feel overwhelmed and want to cut the cord entirely, try this: “Bob, I’m not open to a friendship with you at this time. You’ve been reaching out a lot recently and I feel overwhelmed by it. I have no hard feelings toward you and I wish you the best.”

    Case #4: The Person At the Bar Who Won’t Stop Talking To You Despite Your Obvious Disinterest

    I like to write in my journal at bars. I’m a sober lady and I don’t drink, but I love feeling comfortably anonymous in a social atmosphere.

    Despite my hunched posture, downcast eyes, and scribbling hand, many a barstool neighbor attempts to strike up a conversation with me. The first one or two questions are fine—a pleasantry, really—but often, my bar neighbor will continue on, chatting at me despite my obvious disinterest.

    I can’t count the number of times I have diverted my eyes and offered muttered “uh huhs” and “yeahs” before throwing a twenty onto the bar and escaping into the night, feeling resentful.

    My recommendation: Especially when alcohol might be involved, it’s best to set a firm boundary as clearly and directly as possible. Turn to your barstool neighbor and say, “I appreciate the chance to chat, but I don’t feel like talking right now.”

    Case #5: The “Harmless Older Person”

    Ah, yes. The older lady or gentleman who uses your age difference to justify being “harmlessly flirty” with you. Any of this sound familiar?

    • “If I was your age, I’d have swept you off your feet by now!”

    • “You’re a real beauty, you know that?”

    • “I just love the sight of a spry young man.”

    • “As my father used to say: Just ‘cuz you’re married doesn’t mean you stop lookin’.”

    It doesn’t matter if the speaker is 20 or 200—if someone’s flirtation makes you uncomfortable, you have every right to shut that commentary down.

    My recommendation: Keep it simple. Try this: “I know you’re trying to be kind, but please don’t make comments like that. They make me feel uncomfortable.”

    Case #6: The Uninvited Mansplainer

    There’s nothing quite like the particular fury of having a man 1) assume you know nothing about a certain topic because you’re a woman, 2) explain said topic authoritatively, indefinitely.

    Merriam Webster defines mansplaining as “when a man talks condescendingly to someone (especially a woman) about something he has incomplete knowledge of, with the mistaken assumption that he knows more about it than the person he’s talking to does.”

    Ladies, you might be familiar with mansplaining if you’ve ever bought strings at a guitar store, watched a sporting match, or discussed anything related to cars, electronics, or grilling. Opportunities for mansplaining abound.

    My recommendation: Make it clear that not only do you know this information already, but you’d really like them to stop. Try this: “I’m really familiar with (insert topic here) and I don’t need any more information. Thanks anyway.”

    Case #7: The Personal Space Invader

    You’re standing on the subway, or in the check-out line, or at the club, and someone’s body is too close for comfort. Maybe it’s intentional, which is creepy. Perhaps they aren’t aware of the space they’re occupying. Regardless, you’re not enjoying their front near your back / the smell of their breath / their odor.

    It’s time to set a boundary.

    My recommendation: “Excuse me, could you please move back and give me some space? Thanks.”

    Case #8: “Can I Have Your Number?”

    You’ve been chatting with a stranger, Bob, for a few minutes. As he gets up to leave, he asks for your number. You’re not into it.

    This circumstance tends to elicit boundary-white-lies, such as “Sorry, but I have a partner,” or “Oh, I don’t give out my phone number to strangers.”

    I understand that white lies might be your most comfortable entry point into boundary-setting. I am, at heart, a boundary-setting pragmatist. That said, when you’re ready, experiment with a firmer approach. It might be scary, but it will certainly be empowering.

    My recommendation: “I’ve enjoyed chatting with you, but I’m not going to give you my number. Have a nice rest of your day!”

    Bringing Boundaries To Life

    By now you’ve probably realized that, in each of the cases above, the words you can use to set boundaries are pretty straightforward. It’s actually saying them that’s the hard part.

    With this toolbox of phrases in hand, you can bring these boundaries to life using three simple steps:

    Step 1: Practice boundary-setting aloud.

    Many of us have never fathomed speaking up this directly. Our ability to boundary-set is just like any other skill: it takes time, effort, and practice.

    In the comfort of your own home, practice stating your boundaries aloud. Get used to wrapping your tongue around the words. Consider standing in front of a mirror and using a firm, confident tone.

    At first, it will be uncomfortable and strange—guaranteed. You may find yourself worrying about being “mean,” “rude,” or “harsh.”

    These reactions are totally normal and totally surmountable. Practicing your boundaries alone makes them easier to retrieve when you’re feeling burdened by the tension of an uncomfortable situation.

    Step 2: Role play with your friends. (Yes, really.)

    Once you’ve developed an arsenal of failsafe boundary phrases, practice with a friend or two.

    Give each other feedback. Tell your friend when she sounds overly apologetic. (“Stand in your power, girlfriend!”) Tell your friend when she’s sounding like a huge, mean jerk (“Okay, maybe take that down a notch.”) Have fun with it.

    If you want to uplevel your boundary-setting game, ask your friends to push back against your boundary. (Psychologist Harriet Lerner refers to this as a countermove: a “change back!” reaction.) Practice re-asserting yourself in the face of annoyed reactions. This way, when you begin setting these boundaries out and about, it will feel natural and familiar.

    Step 3: Practice

    As with all new skills, don’t expect perfection immediately. Your first few boundaries in the real world might be clunky, awkward, or embarrassing. Maybe you’ll speak too quietly and the offender won’t be able to hear you. Maybe you’ll boil over in rage and feel terribly guilty afterwards.

    All of this is normal. Be patient with yourself as you strengthen your boundary-setting muscle.

    P.S.: What About Silence?

    Is silence ever an effective form of boundary-setting? To answer this question I like to refer to writer Courtnery J Burg’s take, which she published on Instagram this year. She writes,

    “I’m all about boundary work. But sometimes the healthiest, best way to keep your sanity is to just walk away. To not respond. To not answer that text or that call. Sometimes the answer is no answer at all. This isn’t the same as avoiding. It’s acknowledging what is yours to carry + what isn’t. It’s remembering that not all situations must be handled with delicate gloves and deep, heartfelt energy. That occasionally, no response CAN BE your response and that you have nothing to feel guilty for and no one to explain yourself to for it.”

    Generally, I advocate verbal boundaries because 1) they’re most effective, 2) I spent many years trying to be “good” and “quiet” and I’m rebelling, and 3) they’re a great way to practice your boundary-setting muscle. However, certain awkward situations with strangers are most effectively curtailed with silence.

    As a rule of thumb, I use silence as a boundary with:

    • Catcallers. Silence or the middle finger tends to do the trick.

    • Strangers who message me insistently through social media. Most folks with public social media profiles will occasionally receive a deluge of creepy messages from strangers. Don’t engage. Block the account.

    • Arguers. Suppose I set a firm boundary and the stranger argues my point — asking me “Why?”, urging me to reconsider, etc. You do not owe a stranger any justifications or explanations. Your work is done.

    With time, boundaries that once felt impossible or too-awkward to assert will be second-nature. By practicing this skill of verbal self-defense, you will give yourself the gift of moving confidently and powerfully through the world. You deserve it!

  • Why I’m Trying Harder to Be Kind to Strangers

    Why I’m Trying Harder to Be Kind to Strangers

    “Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.” ~Leo Buscaglia

    From uttering unkind words to sleeping with unkind men, I’ve had many moments of shame in my life. Still, there is one particular moment of shame that stands out from the crowd. It happened at least ten years ago, but I remember it as if it were yesterday.

    I was strolling around downtown Toronto with a visiting friend when a rough-looking fella suddenly approached me. What he was planning to do or say to me, I’ll never know, because my knee-jerk reaction was to take the widest of wide births in order to avoid a face-to-face interaction.

    My girlfriend laughed at how quickly I’d dodged him. While she managed to keep her observation light and non-judgmental, I knew she wasn’t just talking about my ability to spin on a dime. Rather, she was commenting on how this human being had so obviously scared the living crap out of me.

    It’s not as if we were walking down a deserted alleyway. It wasn’t dark outside. The guy wasn’t wielding a knife or coming at me with raised fists. For all I know, he wanted a quarter, or a cigarette, or directions.

    Maybe he wanted to hurl some verbal abuse at a stranger because he was having a bad day. Possibly, or quite likely, he was a resident of the mental health facility across the street. Is that a crime? The fact is, I didn’t know. So I chose to pretend that this human being wasn’t even being.

    How often do you walk down the street and avoid the gaze of a stranger because it feels uncomfortable?

    Here’s what I’ve realized in the years since that incident.

    My discomfort is nothing compared to the discomfort of the panhandler who’s parked day after day in his wheelchair outside my local grocery store because finding work is tricky when you have no legs.

    It’s nothing compared to the discomfort of the physically disfigured man who can’t hold somebody’s gaze for longer than a couple of seconds and knows exactly why.

    And it’s nothing compared to the discomfort of the lonely old woman who wants but fails to find someone to chat with on the bus because when she gets home, there’ll be nobody to talk to. For hours. Maybe days.

    My big moment of shame has been top of mind since returning from vacation.

    My husband and I have just come back from Newfoundland, where we spent one of seven nights bunked up in a teeny blue cabin looking onto a fisherman’s wharf. The cabin was sweet. The view before us was stellar. The community was one I would never choose to live in.

    Behind and adjacent to our cabin were twenty or so simple homes. None had the charm of our picture-perfect Airbnb. As I sat outside sipping wine, enjoying the view before me, and contemplating life, an older, heavy-set, weathered-looking woman stopped at the end of our driveway and started chatting.

    I could barely understand her, partly due to the noisy ocean waves and partly due to her thick Newfie accent, so I rose from my Muskoka chair and greeted her halfway down the drive.

    Her name was Patricia, she told me. She loves it when new guests check into the blue cabin. “Yesterday, there was a couple from France. I meet all kinds of people. I love meeting people.”

    She asked me where I was from. I answered, “Toronto.” Detecting my accent, she responded, “that’s where you’ve come from but is that where you were born?” I explained that I was born in Toronto but grew up in London, England, and moved back to Canada as an adult.

    She held her hand to her chest. “Seriously, you and your husband are from England?” I nodded yes. She beamed a big grin. “For the love of God!” I’d blown her mind.

    Patricia insisted that I step inside her humble house. She wanted to show me something she was positive I’d never seen ever before.

    After walking through her gloomy vestibule and being greeted by Charlie the dog, I saw no fewer than 500 coffee mugs. About 450 were hanging on her kitchen wall. Fifty or so had been relegated to a table in her living room because real estate was lacking.

    I laughed with delight. Patricia laughed with me. “Crazy, right?” she said. Crazy hadn’t even entered my head. Charming had. I was instantly smitten by Patricia and the cups that adorned her bright orange, wood-panelled walls.

    I had Patricia pegged for eighty or so. She told me she was sixty-six and that she’d lived in that house since birth. She was raised by her dad after her mother died when she was five months old. Her dad died twenty-five years ago. She’s lived alone ever since.

    The nearest shop is fifty kilometres away. Patricia pays someone to pick up groceries for her. It’s a pain, she admitted. And lonely. That’s why she loves it when the tourists come to stay.

    I asked if she had ever considered leaving her small community. “God, no!” she said. “I love it here. In two weeks, the whales will come into the bay. When you walk to the end of that pier, you can feel the spray from their blow holes, they come in that close.”

    Did I mention Patricia has no teeth?

    I didn’t? Well, now you know. Patricia has no teeth.

    After our most memorable encounter, I imagined a similar but different scenario.

    I’m on the streetcar in Toronto, heading downtown. A heavy-set women gets on carrying a large plastic bag. Her skin looks old and leathery.

    She’s wearing an orange Dollar Store T-shirt. If she’s wearing a bra, it’s not a good one; her breasts hang low and heavy. She plops herself down in the seat next to me.

    I can smell the cigarette she just stubbed out. She smiles a big toothless grin and asks if she can show me what’s in the bag. What do I do?

    Do I say yes and then make eye contact with other passengers to ensure someone sees me engaging with this ‘crazy’ woman. You know, just in case she decides to grab my purse and run?

    Do I pretend I didn’t hear her and just keep checking my Instagram?

    Do I ring the streetcar bell, get off at the next stop and jump on the one that’s following close behind?

    Or, do I respond to her exactly as I responded to Patricia? By that I mean do I give her my full attention, embrace her with curiosity, and treat her like a human being?

    Because here’s the thing. Whether she’s living in the cabin next door to my hut by the beach or sitting beside me on a streetcar, she’s exactly the same woman reaching out for exactly the same thing: just a little human warmth.

    Be kind to strangers.

  • Where My Social Awkwardness Came From and How I’m Getting Past It

    Where My Social Awkwardness Came From and How I’m Getting Past It

    “We cultivate love when we allow our most vulnerable and powerful selves to be deeply seen and known…” – Brene Brown

    I’ve recently become increasingly aware of my social awkwardness. In fact, my awareness of it sharpened quite suddenly one day as I was innocently talking to a colleague about work-related matters. When I managed to provide a possible solution to her dilemma, she was full of praise for me.

    To make matters worse, she looked me in the eye and told me, “You’re simply wonderful!” Then she remembered a previous comment I’d made about feeling that I did not quite fit in to my workplace, and she added, “I just want to let you know that we all value you in our team. We love you.”

    The effect on me was immediate. I went into a panicky and self-conscious flap and fired back with one self-deprecation after another to deflect such exposing attention on me. I could tell that my colleague looked surprised at my reaction, so I managed to stammer out my thanks.

    At another time, I was speaking to another colleague about a project I was doing when he suddenly revealed that his marriage was struggling. Again, I had the same cold, panicked feeling, only it was much more intense than the first encounter. I think I froze then.

    These encounters brought up other memories in my personal and professional life where I had a similar felt sense of cold panic that foreshadowed a socially awkward interaction. Now that I was doing an actual tally of how many times I’d felt this social awkwardness, I was aghast at how frequently these occurred for me.

    So why was I beset by it? Surely I was not born with it. My young niece and nephew are testament to that, as they lack any social awkwardness or self-consciousness whatsoever. Or as my brother observed, “Look at them! They’re shameless!”

    Could this mean that I picked up my social awkwardness (and self-consciousness) somewhere along the way? If that were true, then I have hope of becoming more comfortable in my own skin, because it is not hardwired into me. I might even someday achieve shamelessness.

    Getting Under My Own Skin

    I’ve since set out to learn more about my social awkwardness because I sensed deeply that merely plastering it over with manufactured shamelessness would not work. Shamelessness had to come naturally, and I sensed that social awkwardness was in its way.

    I started by exploring how my body carried (and still carries) social awkwardness and self-consciousness. Looking back, I see that my responses to people happened like a bodily reflex, without conscious thought. So I looked out for those times when I was interacting with people that brought up the bodily reflex.

    This is what I discovered over time: The body-feeling of my social awkwardness had layers. In my journal I described it as a cold panic on the surface with a slippery feeling underneath.  It feels like a melon seed, hard to grasp. Why slippery? The words “I slip away” fit this feeling. Why was there a necessity for me to slip away?

    Yes, because I was overwhelmed by the sheer raw and undisguised nature of these personal encounters. Social awkwardness is, at heart, the fear of being vulnerable in the face of unmasked intimacy.

    When my colleague praised me, it brought me into focus, without my masks or facades or roles. When my other colleague talked about his marriage, it brought his humanity into focus. It also put me in a place where I had to be purely me, uncovered, to meet his humanity.

    All this was way too intense for me, and I didn’t know how to respond to it. What would have happened if I showed myself fully to the other person and it was shameful? What if the other person became too needy?

    These encounters are not in themselves overwhelming. Rather I am the one being overwhelmed. I feel that I do not have what it takes to be exposed, like I am paper-thin and will burn out in the intense heat of the raw human connection. It is a child-like feeling, like something very young in me has to handle the serious adult-ness of these kinds of connections.

    As I focus on this feeling, memories connect. Some of them include the intense and dramatic fights I used to have with my family, and also the nerve-wreaking shouting matches I witnessed among them. Thinking about these episodes even now makes me feel kind of repulsed. The unbridled emotions and the ugly way they are expressed make me recoil.

    More so, when I recall myself being emotional, I feel repulsed with myself—more embarrassment and shame. I remember further that for the most part in my younger years, my clumsy attempts to express my strong feelings, or to express myself in general, were usually disregarded at best or met with scorn at worst.

    There was a big pervasive sense that these feelings and being “true to oneself” was a bad thing, whether applied to myself or others. No wonder I closed myself off and slipped away.

    And straight on the heels of this notion comes a question: What happens if I show myself and my feelings to someone who responds in the exact opposite way? Someone who would welcome my feelings instead of rejecting them? Take them seriously without making a big deal out of them? Would I become more comfortable in opening myself up?

    The possibility of this fills me with excitement, although there is also a sense of caution. It says, “Not now, not yet, it’s too much to risk.” I leave it because, for now, this knowledge is enough in itself.

    Strangely enough, making these discoveries brought about a series of small releases within me. It was as if I had made a real-time connection to the truth behind my social awkwardness and self-consciousness, and the connection alone allowed these feelings to loosen a little. I felt like I’d opened up a tiny bit more.

    What I’ve Learned So Far

    I have only begun what I sense to be a fairly long journey of self-discovery, and I would be lying to say that I am now happily shameless. However, I feel empowered by what I’ve learned about the process of self-discovery. I also feel hopeful that I could one day become shameless, because I can find out what I need to get there.

    I’ve found that if I interact in a curious way with the real-time feeling of social awkwardness, I can learn fresh information from it. It is the quality of interaction with my feeling, one coming from a position of not-knowing and wanting to discover more, that allows the feeling to change. From its not-knowing stance, the discovery process is pretty scientific.

    In fact, I find that this kind of interaction is identical to times when we meet someone new and we interact with them to find out more about them. We are trying in these cases to get underneath the initial encounter with this person, to learn about who they are inside. Just watch children. They do it all the time.

    I also feel that these kinds of internal interactions are very crucial in those of us laboring with social awkwardness and self-consciousness. After all, these feelings happen in the context of human interactions, and I believe that the very first of these human interactions is with ourselves. When we are able to be open to ourselves (which is a less risky option than being open with others), we regain the capacity to open up with others.

    Try This Out—Interacting with Yourself

    If you too have always felt a visceral barrier between yourself and others, and even with your own true feelings, try having these kinds of interactions with the feeling parts of yourself. In this case, it is the parts of yourself that feel socially awkward.

    Take a moment to sense how they feel in your body. Then start interacting with them with the attitude of “I wonder what I can discover at this moment.”

    I’ve found that it helps to address these feeling parts as “you,” although this is more a matter of personal style. I’ve also found that it helps to be welcoming of all notions, no matter how illogical they might seem. After all, feelings do not need to be logical to make sense.

    Here is a list of useful guiding questions you can ask your socially awkward feeling part:

    • What do you feel like? How can I describe you?
    • What are you connected to? (Gather as many connections as you can.)
    • When else have I felt you? What is it about these situations that bring you up?
    • What more can I learn from and about you?
    • What would make a difference for you?

    Take your time, revisit this feeling part often, and learn as much as you can from it. It will start to soften and change then.

    Happy self-discovery!