The Escalation of Avoidance

Imagine the bell rings at the end of a high school class. Most kids rush out to talk to their friends, meet by their lockers, or grab a snack.

But Marisa Yovanovski would sit quietly at her desk, waiting until the hallways were completely clear so she could get to her next class without running into anyone.

Ever since she was a child, Marisa had been painfully shy. In high school, her social anxiety escalated to the point where she actively timed when she would hand in her tests so she wouldn't draw attention to herself.

She completely avoided eating in the cafeteria, often returning home or going to a friend's house just to avoid being in a public setting.

Her "inner stutter" was a paralyzing social anxiety that made her feel invisible. Like many of us, she relied on avoidance to survive.

As I talk about in Stop Holding Back, avoidance feels like protection. When we successfully avoid a situation that terrifies us, we experience a bittersweet victory. It is sweet because the immediate threat is gone, but it is incredibly bitter because we know deep down that the threat will resurface.

According to the National Health Service (NHS) in the UK, avoiding our fears only makes them scarier the next time. We make a "tainted pact" with our destiny: we actively trade our future happiness and potential for present comfort.

Marisa’s story is the perfect example of this trap. Because she continuously avoided social interaction, her fear grew like an infection. The situation escalated until she developed agoraphobia and began experiencing up to five moderate-to-severe panic attacks every single day.

She missed out on life, eventually turning down a guy she was dating because he wanted her to attend social events. The avoidance became so crippling that she checked herself into a hospital for treatment.

At 17 years old, Marisa decided to stop running and start leaning in. Her first micro-moment of bravery was simply putting on headphones and going for a walk outside.

But her biggest leap? She intentionally got a job as a cashier at a fast-food restaurant.

By forcing herself into a role where she had to interact with customers face-to-face as soon as they walked in, she built a massive sense of accountability. Her hands trembled slightly at first, but with every transaction and every interaction, her confidence grew.

By exposing herself to the fear, she fundamentally changed her relationship with it.

This wasn't an instant, magical breakthrough. When she later enrolled in a university of 30,000 students, the transition was incredibly tough. She still sought comfort on her phone to cope with anxiety and sometimes retreated home, but she kept practicing exposure and grounding techniques.

Today, Marisa's life is unrecognizable from those days of hiding in the hallways.

She takes international flights alone, goes to parties by herself, and even hosts retreats and workshops as a coach to help others overcome their obstacles.

We often treat major personal transformations like lightning bolts. We assume that the people who do extraordinary things, like climbing mountains or reinventing their entire lives, possess a rare type of courage that the rest of us simply missed out on.

But if you look closer at those stories, you realize that massive shifts never actually start at the summit.

They start in the flats, with tiny, uncomfortable choices that nobody else sees.

The "Yes Way" Takeaway:

Marisa’s advice is a powerful wake-up call: “You're going to be scared to overcome it, but try to lean into the fear".

When the urge to avoid a situation kicks in, Marisa recommends using the "five senses" mindfulness exercise to stop yourself from dissociating.

Try it right now: Focus on five things you can see, four things you can feel, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste.

Your challenge this week: 

The next time your inner stutter tells you to avoid a conversation, a meeting, or a social setting, run through this 5-senses exercise to ground yourself in the present, and take one tiny step forward.