I love a lot about our new neighborhood, and especially how much these new neighbors go out of their way to connect. As an extrovert, it makes me happy to get together with people and I take pride in the fact that I can make conversations with pretty much anyone. But, here's a secret: I get super intimidated to go into a group when I don't know anyone, especially when I really want them to like me.
Last week, the neighborhood women had their monthly Girls' Night Out, where one woman hosts, comes up with the theme and organizes. It was only the second one I have been able to attend since we moved in earlier this year, and I was really excited about it. As a service project, we were going to be packing Christmas boxes for children full of things they need and a few things they wanted. So, I got a babysitter and bought my contribution to the boxes. When the night arrived, I put on non-yoga pants and make-up and headed over to the amenity center where the party was held.
When I arrived, none of the women that I knew were there. Not one. I scanned the room again for a familiar face and didn't see any. I panicked a little. Was I in the wrong place? The women were laughing and talking in small groups. I finally mustered my courage and sidled up to the closest group to ask if this was the Christmas box packing party. She pointed me to the next room where the supplies were getting organized, and I made a beeline over.
In the next room, a few women were gathering and organizing the supplies on tables around the room for us to form an assembly line. I did a quick scan but didn't find anyone I knew, so I dropped my supplies and retreated to the ladies room.
In the ladies room, I sent some SOS texts to a few people to explain my predicament. I was feeling super awkward. I didn't want to just barge up to a group and interrupt their discussions. I was mad at myself for being so intimidated (always super helpful to be mad at yourself for having a normal human emotion) and sad because I wanted to connect with them at the same time and felt like I was missing out (despite being only a few feet away on the other side of the dang bathroom door).
I debated leaving and just going home. I thought about going to Target to wander around by myself for a little while, kid-free, so I wouldn't have to go home and tell the babysitter that I was a loser. My friends were super supportive, texting back permission for me to do whatever the heck I needed to do to actually enjoy the night. (Thank goodness for supportive friends!) After a few more moments hiding in the bathroom, texting back and forth, I heard two voices outside the door talking about finding a certain attendee but not knowing where to start.
"Don't worry, I don't know anyone else here either."
"Thanks anyway. My daughter told me to look for her, so I was just trying to find her."
"I am sure someone else knows her here, let's go ask them."
"I am not sure I want to do that, I'll just keep an eye out."
For some reason, hearing those two women talking about not knowing anyone else and feeling a little intimidated made me feel a little shot of bravery. That little shift also cleared my head enough to hear a former mentor's voice in my head with her sage words of advice: "Find someone more pathetic than you and help them." (She lovingly used sarcasm and dry humor when I needed to be shaken out of my current state of mind!) Looking for someone else that seems to feel awkward or scared always does the trick when I get scared or intimidated, but I had forgotten about it until that moment. When I feel uncomfortable or nervous, the best way to counteract that is to take a contrary action, which is usually to stop thinking about myself and look for a way to be helpful to someone else. This can be anything from helping to set up/clean up/serve food to looking for a person that also looks a little awkward and go make conversation with them. Find someone that looks like they need assistance and go do what you can to help.
I walked out from my hiding spot in the bathroom and introduced myself to them, and actually knew the person they were looking for. (She wasn't there yet, but it was nice to be able to definitively answer that question for the woman looking.) Then, we had a lovely conversation while we waited for the women to arrive. While we were talking, a few more women arrived that I knew, and I was able to introduce her around. Then, it was time to start packing the boxes, and we got to work. As the boxes piled up, I decided to carry a few loads out to the car of the woman hosting the party, and she thanked me on each trip (if only she knew that it was my way of trying to be of service and counteract feeling awkward!).
On one of my trips back from the car, a good friend (who arrived just a few minutes after I emerged from my self-imposed exile in the bathroom) told me that she wanted to introduce me to someone she had just met, another single mom that was new to the neighborhood. I was elated to be able to make that kind of connection. While we chatted, another woman introduced herself and the conversation eventually turned to how awkward we all felt at the beginning of the evening. It struck me that we were all feeling similar things, and the relief that we got from admitting it to each other. In admitting that we didn't feel connected, we found a connection after all.
As the evening wound down, several of us exchanged phone numbers and connected on social media. We all promised to connect at the next month's event, too. We hugged and said our goodbyes, and I left feeling very glad that I stayed. My heart was full of gratitude, when just an hour before, it was full of dread. I was grateful for the supportive texts from my friends, for the wise words that came to mind from my old mentor, and for the new connections made when I followed her advice.
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