After a year of isolation, stress-free socializing should sound like heaven. So why does having fun with your closest friends feel so forced?
It's the Newfound Social Anxiety For Me
I spent most of last year missing my friends. I posted nostalgic throwbacks on Instagram, scheduled Zooms with BFFs, and routinely complained to my fiancé about how much I yearned for the before times. “I can’t wait for things to go back to normal,” I chanted every night as he brushed his teeth.
And now, after the social hiatus felt around the world, a return to normalcy is finally around the corner. A reported 64% of all Americans have received at least one dose of a Covid-19 vaccine and, if social media is any indication, people are gearing up for a summer of mingling. “Vax girl summer,” as it’s been dubbed, is the new hot girl summer. Vax girl (aka shot girl) summer is a season not unlike the summer before your freshman year of college. It’s a state of mind that screams, “let’s hang out!” with a little bit of “YOLO” mixed in for good measure. After a year of isolation and pandemic panic, stress-free socializing should sound like heaven. But many people are finding themselves experiencing a form of social anxiety — even around their closest friends.
My expectations collided with our new normal last month when I finally went to dinner with friends from college for the first time in more than a year. I hit the town with a pep in my step and called my mom on my way to dinner to inform her that I was not only going to see friends ~IRL~ but also that I was wearing a real bra. Things were looking up!
But soon after the appetizers arrived, I found myself straining to focus on conversation topics. In a room full of well-dressed humans, I suddenly felt anxious about my standard jeans and T-shirt combo. I became convinced I needed an entirely new wardrobe. At one point I found myself describing a TikTok video at length that no one had seen. I felt drained by the end of the night. I had absolutely not emanated effortless vax girl energy or whatever.
Apparently, I am not alone in feeling this way. Lots of young women I spoke to told me it's not that they're unhappy about seeing friends again, but they're clearly out of practice.
Or as Marissa, who is 29 and lives in Chicago, put it: “I feel like an athlete returning from an injury—I know all the plays but I forgot how to dribble the ball.”
Sophie, 28, from Toronto: “I’m more hyper self-aware in the presence of others now. It feels kind of crippling and makes me self-conscious.”
And Molly, 32, from Los Angeles: “The big group dinners I used to love now leave me feeling super drained. I find I don’t have the same energy or desire to be around people for long periods of time.”
This post-pandemic paralysis isn’t surprising in a professional or dating context, but it can be jarring to feel weird around our best friends. According to Adam Smiley Poswolsky, friendship expert and author of Friendship in the Age of Loneliness, the first step in navigating this unease is acceptance. Whether you’ve been living solo, shacked up with a partner, back home with your parents, and/or taking care of your kids, we’ve all been existing in individual bubbles. Acknowledging that we’ve been in different places and dealing with our own priorities is a big part of accepting where we’re at now.
Smiley’s next suggestion for approaching friendships this summer is to give others what he calls a pandemic pass if communication has been sparse during the last year. “We may not have been the best at staying in touch, and that’s okay. We can all give each other a pass and look at this as an opportunity for a friendship reset.”
I obviously left my pandemic passes at home when I went to dinner with my friends. Because we had navigated transitions before, like graduating from college and living in different cities, I expected that we would essentially pick up exactly where we'd left off more than a year earlier. But I hadn’t factored in the larger impact COVID had on our collective dynamic.
Smiley says that simple, direct communication can lead to a better outcome when maneuvering awkward situations with friends. In other words, I could have talked a little bit less about TikTok and a little bit more about how much I'd missed connecting with my (non-Internet) friends and asked them questions.
Marissa has also been struggling to accept her new social bandwidth. “Reemerging hasn’t been as exciting as I expected it to be. Each interaction is loaded with this newfound nervousness.”
To combat social anxiety, Smiley recommends doing a “reflection exercise" prior to seeing a friend. To start, choose a restorative activity like meditating, sitting with a cup of coffee, or journaling. Then, reflect on how you met this person, moments of joy you’ve shared, and a few things you appreciate about them. “Taking stock in the friendship can help you come from a place of celebration when you’re together.”
And then there's the hugging issue. To go in for it or not to go in for it? At this point, it's probably safe to assume your closest friends have been vaccinated, but if you haven't talked about, do you ask? For Cara, 30, from New York, it's a question she feels strange about “It's like you’re questioning someone’s values.”
It’s comforting to keep in mind that there’s no one right way to reemerge from a pandemic, especially when it comes to navigating nuanced social dynamics. But it’s also not too late to reprioritize close relationships that haven't been tended to for a long period of time. If you’re looking to put friendship at the center of your life, Smiley emphasizes focusing on depth, not width. “We live in a world that’s all about having more. But a lot of the data shows that people are looking for deeper relationships, not more relationships. When it comes to our social health, it’s not about meeting as many people as we can. It’s about quality over quantity.”
Despite what your brain may be trying to tell you, you can’t really forget how to do basic things like be a good friend. We may be out of practice in the art of small talk, but this collective reboot is also an opportunity to reach out to our people and rekindle relationships. “Friendships can ebb and flow, have a quiet season, and have a pandemic pause,” says Smiley. “But we can always check in on each other."
The good news is that when I went out with my friends again, our second dinner felt much less strained. We were all a little more relaxed and I only mentioned TikTok once, which feels like a win. But I came away with the realization that this summer isn't going to be a manic race to see how social I can be—that pandemic pass can apply to giving yourself more solo space, too.
“The pandemic changed me,” says Kerry, 37 from New York, “I’m [still] into my alone time right now.”
This story originally appeared on: Glamour - Author:Sarah Levy
