Beyond the Blush

In primary school I was a confident child.

I was the narrator in school plays, I was interviewed on the radio.  I remember leading the cast of the nativity down the aisle with a curtain draped around my shoulders feeling so proud of myself.

As puberty hit, that confidence slowly melted away until I became painfully self-conscious.  It was replaced by a deep fear of public speaking, closely linked to a deep fear of blushing.

It dominated my life throughout school and university.

I did everything I could to avoid situations where I would have to speak in front of a group. And situations where I might blush.

Which was nigh on impossible as I would blush constantly: if someone spoke to me, if I fancied someone, if I didn't fancy someone but thought they might think I fancy them, if I bumped into someone I knew, if someone started telling a joke and I panicked I wouldn't get it. The list was endless...

I went to an all girls’ school but still managed to develop a face-flaming crush on our Latin teacher, Dr Marsh. Cue hideous redness whenever I saw him. Which was frequently, doing GCSE Latin.

Avoiding situations where I might have to speak in a group and situations when I might blush was EXHAUSTING. I had elaborate ruses if I felt a blush coming on - a fake coughing fit, bending down to tie an imaginary shoelace or a speedy exit.

It felt like a full time job.

Going to University made things both better and a lot worse.  Better because I could bunk off and no one would say anything, and worse, because I could bunk off and no one would say anything.

I

had virtually zero attendance in seminars. So many times I got to the door but then couldn't bring myself to go in.  I would keep walking and have a moment of heady exhilaration, followed by a sense of crushing uselessness.

I never did a presentation. I would leave people in my group in the lurch, pretending I would be there but knowing I wouldn't. I even recorded a video and sent that in with a friend one time. In the days of VHS, that took some effort.

In the unlikely event anyone from one of those groups is reading this, I really am sorry!

Eventually my poor attendance was noticed and I found a letter in my pigeon hole (yes this was in 1582).

I went to talk to my tutor and she was so kind. She told me that just being present in the seminar was a contribution. She promised not to call on me to talk, if I could just be in the room. I’m not sure how much my sweaty silence contributed to discussions on Hobbes and Locke, but she was true to her word.

In those days therapy was not on my radar. It never occurred to me to try and get help, nor that there was any help to be had. It was the early 90s, you just muddled through. I had no name for what I was experiencing. ‘Social anxiety’ was not a phrase anyone was familiar with.

So how did I overcome this hideous affliction?!

I say that jokingly but it did feel like an affliction.

Well the short answer is: I got sick of it.

Sick of being scared, sick of planning so many things around it, sick of trying to be invisible, sick of all the agonising.

I'm not going to lie, it has taken years of pushing myself to get to where I am today.

In 2010 I got a job I really, really wanted that involved presentations. There was a heavy reliance on beta blockers to get through them the first few years but get through them I did.

I still blush but now I tell myself 'it doesn't matter,  one cares'. Even when helpful people point out 'you've gone bright red'. (Please I urge you - NEVER tell someone they’re blushing - they already know.) It turns out that not caring that you’re blushing is the magic spell to stop you blushing - it’s quite the paradox.

Gradually I could do more and more of the things that scared me.

I was so tired of being afraid and avoiding so much, doing the terrifying things eventually felt like an easier option.

And then midlife catapulted me in a new chapter I like to call 'Beyond the Blush'.

I literally couldn't give a toss about blushing and public speaking any more. I Just Don’t Care. Maybe it’s a natural part of ageing, maybe it’s decades of living shifting my perspective, maybe it’s the drop in oestrogen…

Whatever it is, I love it!

It gave me, as Mel Gibson once cried, ‘Freeeeedom!’ I actively seek out things that scare me (within reason) to push myself into new territory. It feels powerful to not care, to be able to voice my opinion, ask a question at big events, walk into a room full of strangers, embrace my creativity, to trust my instincts and judgment. It makes me feel alive.

I want my midlife coachees to feel this way too:

LIGHT.

BRIGHT.

BOLD.

VISIBLE.

Whatever you're sick of feeling,  whatever it is that's weighing you down, the right time to tackle it is right now.