On Being Awkward
“As a human, I want one of those rom-com relationships where we stare into each other’s eyes, finish each other’s sentences, and can read each other’s mind without effort. I want my partner to know what I need at all times so that I never have to ask him for anything.…because that moment of asking for what we need and waiting for the response can be excruciating. It allows us to feel our vulnerability and our need….
But as a therapist I know that we cannot have close relationships without risk…and awkwardness. The most beautiful and connecting moments between two people in my therapy room are filled with fear…and awkwardness. Picture red faces, stuttering speech, a struggle to maintain eye contact. The temperature in my room goes up ten degrees. And my clients say the most incredibly brave things….”
Here I am, in all of my awkward glory, standing alone on a stage.
What am I doing here? I’m talking about the importance of being awkward in order to be close with others. This might be the definition of irony. I’m talking about the importance of embracing the awkwardness in relationships during one of the most awkward moments of my life.
Standing on any stage is uncomfortable for someone like me because it exposes so much. I stressed about how I would look, what clothes I should wear, whether I would make a complete and utter fool of myself in about fifty different ways. But as I prepared to speak in front of thousands of people (and many more online) I learned that I couldn’t connect with the audience if I’m not able to be 100% me, 100% awkward, bringing all of myself into the room.
For most of my life I have held a deep desire to avoid awkwardness at all costs.
Looking awkward, feeling awkward, being viewed as awkward, experiencing awkwardness in my relationships - those cringe worthy moments felt unbearable. I could barely tolerate watching television shows like The Office. I spent most of the time hiding behind pillows because, for me, The Office is a horror show. (There aren’t many characters more awkward than Michael Scott).
And then I became a couple’s therapist. And I learned something almost immediately: there is no relational closeness without awkwardness. And no growth without discomfort.
So, a life spent avoiding awkwardness turned into a career where I embrace the awkwardness and encourage my clients to do the same.
I’ve found that when you embrace the awkwardness, you find the magic.
Being close is hard. Showing your least favorite parts of yourself is risky. Talking about the thing that happened last night that makes you want to run away? It requires a tremendous amount of courage. But those awkward moments are the bridge between two people that say, “You matter to me, and so I’m going to show you parts of myself that are so scary or so sacred, I can’t show you with any amount of ease or comfort.”
No one wants to be in a relationship with someone who won’t risk their comfort to be close.
On that TEDx stage, I took the biggest jump of my life. It was life changing. To show up awkward, terrified, and still confident. Confident in who’s behind me and confident in what my risk would yield.
Yes, risk on a stage and risk in a relationship are different. But in a lot of other ways, they are very similar. Both lead to connection. Both require risk and a willingness to look completely stupid. Both are worth it more than you can know. But you won’t know this until you’ve tried.
Written by Elizabeth Gillespie, MAC, MEd, LMFT.