I often find myself struggling with a sense of discomfort when it comes to voicing my opinions. This internal conflict is fueled by a fear of judgment and a long-held belief that success is synonymous with comfort and the absence of criticism. Right after I speak, it’s as if I can visualize an entire auditorium throwing tomatoes at me — “Did I just say that out loud? People must think I’m crazy!” As I pursue my postgraduate studies at Columbia University, this feeling of discomfort has grown ten times more intense.

The pressure to articulate my thoughts clearly often leaves me second-guessing myself. It’s as if my brain decides to play a cruel game of “Find the Missing Word” right when I need to sound coherent. The irony of it all is that I can discuss ideas in my head smoothly, but the moment I open my mouth, I imagine myself morphing into Patrick Star from Spongebob Squarepants, complete with exaggerated facial expressions and garbled speech. With English being my second language, I constantly feel like I’m juggling flaming swords, hoping not to drop one and set the room on fire.

The inconsistency between my expectation of comfort in academic settings and my acceptance of uncertainty in everyday life is striking. Weather forecasts, much like classroom interactions, are inherently unpredictable. Yet, I accept the variability of weather without hesitation, understanding that unpredictability is a part of the natural world. Why do I hold myself to a different standard while easily tolerating imperfections elsewhere?

The answer lies in the deeply ingrained notion that we must be flawless to be successful. This myth is perpetuated by societal expectations and insecurities, all of which collectively shape our understanding of success and self-worth. From an early age, many of us are groomed to believe that success is synonymous with perfection. We are rewarded for high grades while mistakes are often met with criticism and disappointment. This creates a fear of imperfection, driving us to avoid situations where we might expose our vulnerabilities.

Brené Brown, a prominent researcher on vulnerability and shame, argues that vulnerability is not a sign of weakness but rather a measure of courage. This perspective challenges the deeply entrenched societal notion that to be strong, competent, and successful, one must be impervious to failure and criticism. Instead, Brown posits that true strength lies in our willingness to embrace vulnerability, to take risks, and to expose our authentic selves despite the fear of judgment.

As someone whose passion is advocating for quality education, a career goal of mine has always been to work in a well-established higher education institution. When my university advertised internship opportunities at the Office of Admissions, my initial reaction was one of hesitation and self-doubt. My insecure self immediately rejected the idea that I should apply, convinced that I would be rejected and that the rejection would hurt my self-confidence even more.

It was only after a period of reflection and encouragement from mentors and peers that I decided to apply for the internship (I eventually got accepted and now have more money to spend on Smiskis). I realized that my fear of rejection was rooted in a broader fear of failure and a deeply ingrained need for perfection. So how did I deal with discomfort?

Temporal Perspective

One key strategy I employed to manage my discomfort was adopting a temporal perspective. I asked myself, “In one week, one month, or one year, will I regret not taking this chance?” This line of thinking helped me distance myself from the immediate fear of rejection and focus on the long-term implications of my decision. And let’s be honest, in one year, I’d probably be more worried about why I still haven’t figured out how to properly fold a fitted sheet than remembering this moment of hesitation.

This temporal perspective allowed me to step back from the immediate, visceral fear of rejection and view the situation with greater objectivity. By considering the long-term impact, I could weigh the potential benefits against the short-term discomfort. The fear of rejection, while intense in the moment, was not a permanent state but a fleeting emotion that I could overcome. If I could survive the awkwardness of waving back at someone who wasn’t actually waving at me, how bad could this rejection be?

Do First, Think Later

Another strategy I adopted to manage my discomfort and hesitation is the “do first, think later” approach. This involves taking immediate action before allowing my mind to overanalyze. For instance, when faced with the daunting task of presenting in front of a large audience, I focus on starting the presentation rather than obsessing over every possible mistake I could make. This forces me into the moment, it is like jumping into a cold pool without testing the water first — you experience a shock at first, but soon you find yourself swimming comfortably.

Many people do not know this, but I submitted my Columbia University application after spending an hour crying over a rejection letter from somewhere else. That moment of vulnerability and disappointment could have easily paralyzed me but instead of letting myself spiral into self-doubt, I embraced the “do first, think later” mindset. With puffy eyes and a runny nose, I gathered my documents, filled out the application, and hit submit without giving my anxiety time to throw a pity party.

Each time I take immediate action in the face of fear, I remind myself that discomfort is temporary and that growth and opportunities lie just beyond that initial leap. Plus, it makes for a pretty good story — who knew that tears could be such a powerful motivator?

Okay Ezzy, what exactly are you hinting at?

What if, every single day, you set a goal to try something that is out of your comfort zone? The daily practice of embracing discomfort is like building a muscle — one awkward encounter at a time. Think about it: today, you might start by speaking to another awkward person like yourself. By next week, who knows? Maybe you’ll be the go-to-therapist in class. Be uncomfortable because at the end of the day, no one pays attention to us because everyone too, is dealing with their own discomfort.