I thumbed at the strap on my purse while walking through the mall—a nervous tick of sorts to release a little bit of the built-up tension in my body. Though I could feel the many pairs of eyes on me, and caught a few double-takes from others, I kept my head up and continued toward my desired destination.

Each turn around a corner brought new sets of eyes to look my direction. Each store I walked past brought more unsolicited attention.

Hello, mister.

Miss, how are you?

Look, it’s a foreigner.

Look, over there. She’s behind us.

One foot in front of the other—left, right, left, right—I made my way to one of my favorite coffee shops. It’s small, and there’s half a booth in the back of the coffee shop that faces the window. The tall back of my booth’s seat faces all who sit and sip their coffee, so my existence remains relatively unnoticed. The only people who even know I’m there are the employees and whoever happens to sit at the one table to the right of me.

Through the window, I’m able to take a turn at people-watching.

———

In the early days of being a foreigner, my husband and I would joke that we were like Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, but without the paycheck (an outdated comparison that didn’t age well, but you get the idea.)

The attention I immediately started receiving on a regular basis for simply existing was truly overwhelming. No one meant any harm by it, of course. Could I really blame everyone for staring? We can’t help but look when we see something or someone we never thought we’d see standing right next to us at our local grocery store or favorite coffee shop. But over time, I noticed I coped by keeping my eyes down in public—or avoiding the public as much as possible (not very healthy, right?)

And on the days when culture fatigue was wearing on me, I let the stares and not-so-discreet picture taking turn me into a very unkind person. At first, I think I tried to dismiss the discomfort with the “it could be worse” mentality. My experience as a foreigner is far different than many others who have to deal with the harsh, xenophobic comments and misbehaviors of others. At the same time, no amount of “it could be worse” self-talk erased the agitation and discomfort I felt for constantly having all eyes on me.

I first heard about “comparative suffering” from Brené Brown. It involves feeling the need to see one’s suffering in light of other’s pain. Sometimes it leads people to think their suffering is always harder/worse, which leads them to scoff at the “minor” sufferings of their peers. In other cases, people downplay their suffering and decide they don’t deserve to complain. This leads to blocking natural reactions to circumstances, including how they feel.

Signs of comparative suffering include withdrawal, bitterness, and burnout. Overall, it really takes a toll on a person’s mental health. If we’re always focusing on our suffering or comparing ourselves to others, how can we expect anything positive to come from it?

I’ve had nearly a decade to get comfortable with being uncomfortable. Practice makes progress (because I’m certainly not perfect at it) and I’d like to share some tips to help you navigate the choppy waters of being outside your comfort zone.

Take note of what makes you uncomfortable and lean in.
This first tip goes against every fiber in our being when we are feeling uncomfortable, but you’re going to have to trust me. All new things start with awkward discomfort, right? Learning to play the guitar requires the discomfort of forming callouses on your finger tips. Moving into a new house requires the discomfort of not feeling at home quite yet. Making new friends requires the discomfort of a few awkward, get-to-know-you conversations before you really start to feel the comfort of one another’s company.

Identify and make a list of the situations that make you uncomfortable. After that, face your fears head on. This isn’t a list of things to avoid. Resolve in your mind that you will willingly put yourself in these situations in order to chip away at the discomfort.

Start small.
This is not the time to go big or else you might go home for real. If going to the market makes you uncomfortable, start by just driving to the market and observing from your window. OK, check. You have permission to leave. Next time, try to go to the market and walk around inside of it for a full five minutes. Again, permission to leave. After that, go to the market, walk around, and buy some bananas. Don’t worry about overpaying or accidentally buying bananas you don’t like. Celebrate the fact you went from despising the thought of going to the market to actually going to the market and purchasing something. Practice makes progress, right?

Find a buddy.
No one said you have to do this alone. Find a friend who would be willing to keep you company as you shop at the market, join a neighborhood Zumba class, or walk around the neighborhood. It’s nice to have someone to process the experience with right when it’s happening (and maybe laugh with when you feel like an idiot). 

Figure out “the why” behind the discomfort.
Sometimes it helps to know why people act a certain way or do things a certain way. When I was bothered by so many people pinching my kids’ cheeks, a local friend explained it’s just the way people communicate your kids are cute. No one was singling us out because we are foreign (though, our foreign appearance was certainly a factor). Local kids with fat cheeks get pinched, too. It doesn’t completely wipe away the discomfort, but sometimes it helps to know the why so you can see there is some method behind what feels like madness.

Accept that being uncomfortable is a normal, unavoidable part of life.
People are going through all sorts of uncomfortable situations all the time. Maybe the person you’re trying to speak to in another language is also feeling uncomfortable—not because you’re uncomfortable, but because they, too, are trying to communicate with someone who speaks another language. So if I’m doing the math correctly, two uncomfortables cancel out to make one comfortable. Don’t even bother fact-checking me. It’s real math.

Stop comparing yourself with others.
This goes back to the “comparative suffering” I mentioned earlier. Focus on your growth and stop assuming everyone else has their whole life together. Make a point to name your achievements, your good days, the moments that brought you joy. If you want to journal these things, awesome. But if you’re not really into journaling, say these things out loud. Don’t let these moments get buried.

Come up with a short mantra to say to yourself as you enter an uncomfortable situation.
My mantra for facing an uncomfortable/awkward/new situation is “this will make a really good story one day.” It’s perfect for me because I’m a writer and a storyteller. When I say this mantra to myself, I go from feeling paralyzed by discomfort to feeling excited about what kind of story comes out of it. I also say “this will make a good story” instead of “this might”—because it communicates a faith that good things will come.

———

A flurry of people moved outside the window as a sat in my booth, tucked away in anonymity. Some walked on foot, pushing a cart, while others waited on the side of the road for their ride to pick them up. Most of those passing by weaved in and out of traffic on motorcycles. It felt nice to take a turn to stop and stare at the people around me—not as some sort of “payback” for all the unsolicited stares I had received in the past—but rather, an opportunity to remember the depth of love I have for this culture and people.

This experience of being a foreigner has certainly strengthened my empathy for others. It’s reminded me of how we all desire to belong and fit in—but sometimes, due to factors out of our control, it’s difficult to feel that way in certain situations.

However, we can allow these experiences to inform our future actions. We name what doesn’t feel great in hopes we don’t cause others (who find themselves in a similar situation) feel the same way. We can choose not to dwell too long on the irritating interactions, but instead, recall the kindness many other local people have shown us—even when we are different and hard to understand at times. We can name aloud these acts of kindness we’ve received and think about the type of person we want to be for others when they feel like they don’t belong.

We can consider how we can be that helpful person who comes along someone else and assists them in navigating the choppy (and sometimes overwhelming) waters of being out of their comfort zone.