The U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention made a recent announcement: those who have received their COVID-19 vaccinations can, with some restrictions, resume a mask-free life. Since then, it seems like everyone around me has been trying to make up for lost time. Restaurants are packed inside and out with people lined up, waiting to get in. Traffic is brutal. Flights, rental cars, and ride-sharing options are scarce and their prices seem to have at least doubled. My “virtual” groups are all trying to get back to in-person gatherings as soon as possible.
Of all these changes, that last one has made me the most uncomfortable. I’ve grappled with social anxiety my entire life, and the longer I’ve stayed indoors, the harder it’s been to imagine being around people again.
As weird as it may be to pretend to grab or throw an Aikido partner over Zoom, it feels much more natural to me now than the idea of making actual, physical contact.
Most of the members of my writing group are hundreds of miles away in the city where I grew up, and I worry that the longer they meet in person, the more I’ll feel like an outsider.
I’ve even been hesitant to see old friends. After all this time, will we still have anything in common? Or will we end up just watching TV so we don’t have to struggle to find something to talk about?
Everyone around me has seemed anxious to be out in the world again. I’ve just been anxious.
Then there’s work. I’ve heard that many people who now work from home end up putting in a lot more hours than they used to. It can be hard to set boundaries when your office and your home are in the same place.
I didn’t really have that problem until I took on a new role a couple of months ago. Since then, my work has become my life. I start my workday before the sun comes up and am often still going when it’s about to disappear. Meanwhile, I stopped showing up to Aikido classes for over a month, scheduled Spanish lessons half as often, and barely touched my last blog post until the night I published it. I’ve simply lacked the time and energy to invest in the things I used to enjoy.
But as easy as it’s been to let social anxiety and a crazy work schedule control me, I know I can do better. The only valid reason I’ve had to stay home was COVID-19. Once I was vaccinated, I could no longer justify being a hermit.
Instead, I decided it was time to visit home.
The day after my two-week incubation period was over, I rented a car and drove down to the city I grew up in to stay with my family. I’m no longer attached to the city itself, but ringing that familiar doorbell, seeing the door open, and being able to hug my mom again made me feel like I was home.
Soon, it was time to start seeing friends. I could have easily brought my problems with me, continuing to hide indoors and working myself to exhaustion. I knew that if I waited to make plans until a day when I had a lighter workload, that day might never come. So I planned ahead. I contacted several of my old friends and scheduled time to meet with them. I let my writing group know I was in town and planned a get-together with them. I was worried I’d feel awkward and that my job would suffer, but I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to reconnect with people I care about.
On the day of my first hangout , I somehow managed to get all of my important work done within eight hours. For the first time in two months, I was able to tell my coworker, “I have to go and probably won’t be back online until tomorrow.” 30 minutes later, I was in a sports bar watching a basketball game with two friends, all of us without masks. I was too busy having fun to feel uncomfortable. A couple days later, I met another friend at a brewery and once again had a blast. A third friend had me over for dinner with his family, after which he, his son, and I bonded over video games for an hour.
Then came the big test: meeting my writing group. Ten of us met at a local park. I quickly realized that of the nine of other people, I had only seen one of them in person before. Normally, the larger the group, the more self-conscious I get and the quieter I become. But every time another person showed up, I found myself smiling, excited to finally get to see them face to face. We stayed at the park until the cold became too much for us. I could have used the weather as an excuse to go home. Instead, we decided to go to a restaurant and spent the evening sharing food, swapping stories, and laughing.
It’s almost time for me to say goodbye and head back to my place. But now that I’m getting used to being around people and scheduling time away from work, I have a feeling I’ll be in a much better place than I was when I left.
Have you been able to start experiencing an unmasked life? How well have you adjusted to the “new, new normal?”