Social anxiety in high-functioning adults (and why it often goes unnoticed)
Photo by Kindel Media
What do people think when they imagine social anxiety? Someone who is extremely shy, avoids attention, or is afraid to speak in public. And sometimes, it does look like that, but not always. I met D’ for an interview in a research lab. She told me how she was succeeding in her work, usually gets great feedback in reviews and just gets along. And yet, she was still distressed quite significantly – being “just like everyone else” in the daily meetings at work demanded a lot from her, taking a deep breath and diving deep into the “mind field”, as she described it. While she made it through, there was a big mental cost for it. D’ is not the only one. In many cases, social anxiety exists in people who are actually functioning very well – sometimes even excelling – in their daily lives. They go to work, meet deadlines, attend social events, show up for family, and from the outside, things seem to be working. And yet, internally, the experience can be very different.
Social anxiety is one of the most common psychological difficulties, especially among young adults. What often gets missed is that you don’t have to “look anxious” to be struggling with it. In fact, being high-functioning can sometimes make it harder to recognize. You might be performing well, receiving positive feedback, even being seen as confident or capable – and at the same time, constantly overthinking, analyzing, and feeling tense in social situations. In that sense, the functioning can be blinding. Both to others and to yourself.
Someone might go through an entire day interacting with people – at work, with friends, with family – and technically everything goes fine. They say the right things. They respond when needed. They fulfill expectations. But internally, something else is happening. Instead of being present in the interaction, they’re often in their head: “Am I coming across okay?” “Did that sound weird?” “What are they thinking about me?” There can also be a deeper layer underneath: A sense that if they are really seen, something will be exposed – that they’re not as competent, interesting, or “put together” as they appear. So even when nothing goes wrong externally, the experience can feel tense, effortful, and exhausting.
Most people feel a bit of social anxiety on a date or in a job interview. But for people with social anxiety disorder, life is one long date or interview.
One of the things that stood out to me in my research is something that often surprises people. What most people find enjoyable in social situations, people with social anxiety often don’t experience as enjoyable at all and even can be experienced negatively. I sometimes call it the “compliment paradox.” Imagine someone receives a compliment in a social setting – something genuine and positive. For many people, that might feel good, even if slightly uncomfortable. But for someone with social anxiety, the experience can be very different. Instead of enjoying the compliment, the focus shifts to: “Now everyone is looking at me.” “They’ll notice something is off.” “I don’t really deserve this.” And very quickly, the moment becomes stressful. On top of that, another layer can appear: “What will I do next time?” “How will I not disappoint?” So instead of internalizing something positive, the experience turns into anxiety about the future.
This is similar to what I have found in my research, which looked at situations like dating and intimate situations. These are moments where, by definition, you are more exposed – your personality, your body, your way of being. For many people, that already brings some level of nervousness. As one of my professors used to say, most people feel some social anxiety on a date or in a job interview – and that makes sense. But for people with social anxiety disorder, many everyday interactions can feel the same, almost like life is one long job interview. Now imagine carrying that feeling into situations that are already more vulnerable, like dating or intimacy. Instead of enjoying the experience, there can be self-monitoring, fear of judgment, post-interaction overthinking, and anxiety about what the other person is thinking or expecting. So again, in one of the most uplifting experiences known to us, people with social anxiety can really miss its benefits, and even suffer from it.
Photo by Mike Jones
One of the common misunderstandings about social anxiety is that it’s only about how someone behaves. If someone is attending events, speaking, interacting – then they must be fine. But that’s only part of the picture. Social anxiety is not just about what happens externally. It’s also about the internal experience. If social interactions consistently involve distress – even if the person is functioning – that still matters. And it’s something that often goes unnoticed.
Over time, this kind of experience can be draining. After social interactions, many people describe feeling: exhausted, mentally consumed, in need of retreat and quiet. Not because they don’t like people – but because the interaction required so much effort. There is also often a tendency to replay interactions: “What should I have said?”, “Why did I say that?” This can continue long after the interaction itself has ended. If you recognize yourself in some of this, you’re not alone. And it doesn’t mean that something is fundamentally wrong with you. Often, it means that your system has learned to treat social situations as something to monitor, evaluate, and protect yourself within – rather than something to simply experience. That can change.
The goal isn’t to eliminate anxiety completely. It’s to relate to it differently, and choose from a space of freedom.
Change in social anxiety is not just about “exposing yourself more” or forcing yourself into situations. That can be part of the process, but on its own, it’s usually not enough. What often helps is something more gradual and relational: understanding the patterns and internal experience, having a space where the anxiety can be explored without judgment, building awareness of what is happening in real time, taking steps that are adapted to you – not forced. In my experience, this works best as a shared process. Not something you have to figure out alone, but something you build step by step, with support. Over time, even the therapeutic relationship itself can become part of the change – a place where social experience is different, more observed, less threatening.
In one moment that seemed insightful, a patient told me “Only now I get it – the goal isn’t to eliminate anxiety completely, I’m not sure that’s possible. But I can relate to it differently, it doesn’t have to control me.” I was smiling joyfully hearing her say it. And continued by expanding and saying that we want to be able to be in interactions with more presence, less self-monitoring, and more freedom. And gradually, to experience social and relational moments not as something to get through but as something that can actually be felt, and gradually experience what comes with it – relief, warmth, and a sense of security.