I've always had this lingering fear that something bad was going to happen to me.
Today was no different.
My lecturer's endless ramblings barely reached my ears, it was drowned out by the hum of my own thoughts. It was always hazy visions of me experiencing the most gruesome pain. My train of thoughts were interrupted by his spontaneous outbursts of insults on how dumb our generation was.
The moment he finished the last slide, I shoved my notebook into my bag, yanking it closed with trembling hands. I had to get out. Fast. Too fast.
Being outside my comfort zone always drained me, faster than any physical labor ever could.
Ever since I could remember, I'd suffered from social anxiety and social phobia. It wasn't about my looks,I knew I was pretty. Maybe it was the conditioning or the environment I grew up in, the way people could watch and judge. I tried reading books, watching videos, taking advice, exercises, mantras… none worked.
So I accepted it. My fate was to be that girl who always struggled with social interaction even though I sometimes craved to be among.
Coming into the University only made it worse. My looks drew resentment from girls who didn't know me. They whispered and laughed for no reason I could understand. It didn't matter. Eventually, everyone would see who I really was, a weirdo who didn't want to be tangled in any form of emotional rollercoaster. Especially after John.
John was a guy I had liked when I was sixteen. The way he left and how things ended between us fueled my avoidance even more. I never tried to have small talks like the others would as they waited behind with cliques of friends. I was a one-man army.
I walked out of the lecture hall as soon as the lecturer left. My steps wobbled. My eyes flinched at every glance. My voice had disappeared. Some girls laughed. Maybe it was me. Maybe it was my walk. I forced my face calm, took long strides, and went straight to the only place I could breathe, my room. Only there could I breathe and be myself.
While walking home, someone called out from behind me.
"Hey, pretty girl," he said.
I froze for a moment, my stomach twisting. "Good evening… how may I help you?" I said in a very shaky, timid tone.
"Uh… I just wanted to walk you home and maybe chat as we go. Is that okay?" he asked.
Thing is, I wasn't much of a talker. "I think… it's a waste of time," I said.
"I'm Ben," he continued, calm and patient. "I'm studying Medicine and Surgery. Would it be okay if I got your contact so we could talk online?"
I hesitated. My heart was hammering, my steps faltering. Each glance at him made my chest tighten. He noticed anyway, and instead of pressing, he smiled warmly. There was something in the way he looked at me, a careful observance, as if he understood me. So I handed him my number, my hands still trembling. We walked the rest of the way in silence, my thoughts racing. When he waved goodbye at my lodge, I felt understood and seen in a very long time.
At home, I finally let myself go. Music blared through my speakers, rattling the walls of my room. I sang until my throat ached, each note shaking out the tension I had carried all day. I danced, spinning and stomping until the floor felt dizzy beneath me, until the rhythm drowned out the echoes of judgment and whispers that haunted my mind. I knew my neighbors always wondered if I was the same person that went in and out of my room. I wrote little poems on scraps of paper, scribbles of dreams and half-formed thoughts, just to feel my fingers move on something I owned. I imagined modeling, imagined being on stage, imagined a life where my face and body could give me leverage, but only in my mind. Out there, in the world, I was still me, cautious and small. Here, I could breathe. Here, I could exist freely.
Not long after, my phone buzzed. Ben. Even reading his name made my chest tighten, a nervous flutter that was strangely comforting. He had taken an interest while I was walking home, and even though I was awkward, shy, and flinched at every glance, he had noticed me anyway. Now we could talk online, a space where I could be myself without fear, without trembling for no reason.