Unshyness Unleashed
Saturdays in New York City are my time to relax and recharge. I typically wake up around 11 a.m., sip two cups of fresh coffee, and catch up on the news or dive into a book until the late afternoon. By then, I usually head out to Tompkins Bagels for a classic bacon, egg, and cheese on a sesame seed bagel, a nostalgic treat from my college days. The rest of the day is spent on my daybed, watching shows like Inside the Mind of a Dog or that quirky series Baby Reindeer. However, on one particular Saturday, I had a special event planned: a quirky program called Unshyness.
It all started when my sister, a sophomore in college, sent me a TikTok about a dinner party for young adults. While the idea intrigued me, life got busy, and I never signed up. Three months later, she sent me another link to Unshyness, a program designed to boost confidence, reduce self-criticism, and improve social skills. The program seemed like a great opportunity to work on the traits I’d been wanting to develop, so I signed up for a sample course. The confirmation email included a Willy Wonka-style paper slip with instructions to meet outside Bryant Park Whole Foods at 2:00 p.m.
Since I live in Union Square, about a 39-minute walk away, I decided to make the trip in my power wheelchair. I stopped by the Union Square Market, which was bustling with summer energy, and then popped into Rizzoli Bookstore in the Flatiron District. Rizzoli is a favorite of mine, with its refined ambiance and expertly curated selection of books. After window shopping for potential reads, I continued my journey to Whole Foods, curious to see whether this event would be inspiring or a total bust.
I arrived early and, five minutes later, met the program leader, a man with a European accent, possibly French or Australian. He explained that this was a demo course, and we’d participate in three exercises designed to improve confidence. The first exercise was simple yet bold: he approached five strangers and asked for a high-five, observing their reactions. Some people ignored him, others laughed, and a few were thrilled to participate.
Next, we walked down Fifth Avenue as he complimented random strangers. First, he told a woman in a workout outfit, "Nice outfit; you look really good today." She smiled and thanked him before continuing on her way. Then, he complimented a muscular man, saying, "Nice physique you've got there," and the guy smiled, replying, "Thanks, man, I appreciate it." The final exercise was about stepping out of our comfort zones: he complimented a woman and then asked for her phone number. It was a reminder that dating often involves spontaneity and embracing vulnerability.
At the end of the demo, the coach offered us the chance to purchase an eight-class package for $25, which I was tempted to do. The experience had been positive, and I felt it could help me develop the confidence I needed to navigate life and dating as a wheelchair user. I decided to think it over for a day or two before committing, but I was already sold on the idea.
As I headed home, listening to Neil Young on my headphones, I felt confident and energized. From the Jewish rooftop speed dating event to the Unshyness program, it had been one of the more interesting weekends I’d had in a while. The next day, I capped it off with a special screening of The Good Bad Things at AMC on West 42nd Street. The film follows a man with a disability who navigates dating apps and self-discovery, a topic I relate to deeply. While I’ve had both positive and negative experiences on apps like Tinder and Bumble, I’ve learned that confidence and authenticity go a long way.
This weekend reminded me that sometimes, stepping outside your comfort zone—whether at a quirky event or on a dating app—can lead to unexpected, yet rewarding, experiences. Confidence is a journey, and I’m excited to see where it takes me next.
