I feel like, if someone knows you through Stony circles, the odds are pretty good that they have both ugly-cried and had a no-hands orgasm from reading your work, and have no basis to complain...

But yeah. I had the social anxiety thing until it completely broke my capacity for shame, and now I come in like Zaphod Beeblebrox after a Mary Oliver binge-read. I'd like to say it's better this way, but I honestly don't know. Shrugs.