“Make more eye contact.” For Shys, that’s like commanding a vampire to make good eye contact with the sun. What if he wants to stop and talk to me? What if I freeze up? What if she thinks I’m stupid? What if he sees me blushing? What if…? Well, I’ll just pretend I didn’t see him.
Sound familiar? Your eyes are a vital body part of your Stamping Out Shyness campaign.
Some well-meaning people advise, “Look at people’s eyebrows.” (Do they really believe you can have a meaningful conversation with a pair of eyebrows?) Or, “Look at the bridge of their nose.” (Sure, then they tell their friends you’re cross-eyed). Tricks don’t work.
There is no way around it. Shys must master good eye contact.
If only we thought like the Asians. To them, having little eye contact is a sign of respect. Alas, we can’t inject their mores into our customs and polish our shoes with our eyes while talking to the boss. Here in the land of the brave and the free, we must have eye contact commensurate with our culture—confident, courageous, dominant, risk taking, and pioneering. Unfortunately, when you avert your eyes, these are not qualities you exude. Poor eye contact can be misinterpreted as shifty, shy, sneaky, snobbish, or untrustworthy. That in itself makes it worth majoring in eye contact.
I never cease to be amazed by babies’ eye contact. Their tiny fearless eyes stare straight into mine. They look confident. When they grab their little toes and squeal with delight, they aren’t wondering whether their feet are too big or too small. If I should gently poke their little tummies, they don’t think I mean, “Getting a little tummy there, aren’t you?” They don’t blame themselves for scarfing down that extra jar of puréed applesauce and peaches.
Babies think that they’re pretty cool no matter what they look like. And they assume that everyone else thinks they are, too. So they confidently keep gazing at me until they get bored. “Ho hum,” they decide. “Now I’ll stare at some other silly adult face.”
Conversely, of course, no matter how shy you are, you wouldn’t be intimidated by looking into a baby’s eyes. Thus, a great place to start becoming comfortable with lingering eye contact is to stare right back into a baby’s eyes—just the way he or she gawks at you. Eyes are eyes, whether they are six months old or sixty years old. Once you get used to tiny eyelashes, pupils, and irises, you’ll feel more relaxed looking into those of teenagers. You can graduate to adults’ eyes, authority figures’ eyes—and then drop-dead gorgeous eyes.
Once looking into a baby’s eyes is no sweat, work your way up the scale to tots, then preteens, then teens. Don’t stop there. After you have mastered making eye contact with juvenile eyes, gradually graduate to good eye contact with people your own age. You may be able to make a smooth transition. If, however, you find yourself simply unable to keep eye contact with people of a particular age group, there is an intermediary step.
When you reach the point where even slightly younger eyeballs make you jittery, skip them for the moment and shimmy to the top of the totem pole. Look into seniors’ eyes.
Start with the over-seventy set—sitting on a bus, waiting in line, wherever and everywhere. Many elderly people, especially in large cities, feel neglected. Look right into their eyes, smile, and make them feel special. You’ll be doing both of you a favor.
In high school, I couldn’t look a single person in the eye. In class I kept to myself and during breaks I would escape to the back of the school’s hall. Interaction with my peers virtually “paralyzed” me with fear.
Interestingly enough, I have little problem interacting with people much younger or older than I am—I am not too shy around kids or people approximately the age of my parents. But the closer someone gets to my own age, the more intimidating they are to be around.
—Scott S., Watertown, South Dakota
Now let’s raise the bar on beginner’s eye contact. As soon as you’ve completed the “Young Eyes/Old Eyes” exercises, take on some anonymous eyes. These are people who are just waiting for your eye contact.
For example, salespeople, standing behind their counters in a department store, have been told to smile at customers. Help them do their job! They are eager for your eye contact. Rather than eyeballing strangers on a crowded street who are not just waiting for the moment you grace them with your smile, try catching the eye of the cosmetic clerk or the shoe salesperson.
You asked for “success stories” with shyness. I had a terrible time smiling and making eye contact with people. So I started making eye contact with people who didn’t intimidate me. I looked at bus drivers when I got on the bus, cashiers when I bought something, and waitresses when they served me something. The more I got used to that, the more I was able to make eye contact with other people and people I knew.
—Ken K., Beaver Falls, Pennsylvania
As in all Good-Bye to Shy exercises, monitoring never hurts. If you have a friend who knows you’re shy, take her shopping with you. Make a deal. If you don’t meet your target number of eye-contact “hits,” you buy your friend lunch.