Some people are intimidating. To most, they’re bosses, school bullies, or sumo wrestlers.  To a shy person, everyone is intimidating.  As a self-diagnosed sufferer of social anxiety disorder, or SAD, I feel it’s my responsibility to shed some light on an awkward situation.  Throughout my scope of social experiences, I have encountered many different types of people.  Almost all of those encounters have been uncomfortable for one party or the other.

I attribute much of my shyness to my upbringing.  Not only had I attended three different elementary schools by the time I was eight, but my father also practiced some rather unconventional parenting techniques.  His best idea had to be when he convinced four-year-old me that a big, black dog stood watch outside my front door waiting to bite my fingers if I ever opened it to talk to strangers. Since then, I’ve overcome my fear of dogs, but not of strangers.

That irrational fear has landed me in social detention many a time.  It’s turned teachers into enemies and interviews into nightmares.  I also spent much of a school year with a Febreze bottle practically glued to my hand because I couldn’t bring myself to tell my new roommate her boyfriend smelled… BAD.

Speaking of boyfriends, mine is very supportive, but he can’t really relate to my situation.  He’s my exact opposite.  Where I’m bred to excel at silent auctions, libraries, and mime, he loves being the center of attention.  He’s the Penn to my Teller, the Groucho to my Harpo, the Tom Cruise to my Rain Man.

While he naturally possesses the ability to alleviate stress in our social interactions, not everyone else in my life does. He’s definitely had his slip-ups, but many others have constantly made communication exponentially more difficult.

Honestly, I cannot tell you exactly how to strike up an unfeigned conversation with someone on the quiet side.  I’m still working on untying my own tongue.  But, in the meantime, I can offer advice on what not to say if you are trying to ease a tense situation.  These questions and phrases may seem obvious enough to avoid.  However, believe it or not, they have all been said to me or in my presence.  Trust me; I know each is sure to crush any hopes of a normal conversation:

Why don’t you talk?

Really? You’re really asking me that?  And you’re expecting an answer? Wow. Shrug.

Why are you so quiet?

Again, shrug.

Is there something wrong with you?

Probably.  That’s at least how I feel now.  I would ask you the same in return if you didn’t just make me so ill at ease.

Speak!

Sorry, I’m not your dog.  Tossing me a biscuit won’t do the trick either.   

This is my girlfriend, she’s really shy, please try to include her in conversation.

Thanks, honey.

I know you said this with the best of intentions, but you only made me more anxious.  In one quick move you transformed a pleasant afternoon into an interrogation.  The spotlight bore down on me; my heart palpitated in my chest, and all I could think about were my inevitable pit stains as the hour trudged on and on, each apprehensive one-word answer after another.

Are you a mute?

Possibly my favorite question anyone has ever asked me.  With a nod of the head I had one less person to worry about ever having to speak to again.

So, potential acquaintances beware; heed this warning.   You can save yourself and the shy people you encounter from much blushing and embarrassment.   If you ask better questions, I’ll try not to spook myself out of answering.  With cooperation, perhaps one day the world could be just a little bit louder.

Katrina Gaudier is a senior at Drexel University. She is studying English and Philosophy and is expected to graduate in June of 2010.