Having anxiety isn’t something that I am ashamed of.

In fact, it has made me a stronger person in the long run.

Being an extrovert isn’t something that I am ashamed of.

In fact, I love that I am a very loud, personable and outgoing person.

However, when you combine those two drastically different personalities; life can be a bit of a challenge.

Ever since I can remember, I have had anxiety. I’ve always been able to control it to a point, but sometimes, that little voice in the back of your head is too much to handle.

Most days I’m OK, but more often than not, I want to do nothing more than lie in bed and not talk to anyone.

I’ve also always been an extrovert.

I love being the center of attention and making people laugh, and I thrive in crowds.

You see where this can be an issue?

There’s one side of my being that wants nothing more than to get together with friends and spend the day out in Birmingham.

On the flip side, the other half of me wants nothing more than to sit at home and watch a Tom Hiddleston film.

The pressure from my extroverted side usually wins out against my anxiety-ridden other half, but the anxiety doesn’t simply go away.

The little voice in the back of your head stays, and in most instances; it gets worse when you go out.

Telling you that you’re not good enough, that nobody likes you, that you’ll never amount to anything, reminding you of something you said five years ago, all the while you’re sitting at the Cheesecake Factory with a fake smile plastered across your face because you have to keep up your extroverted side on full display.

It’s hard, it sucks and 99 percent of the time I wish I had decided to take anxiety meds to help control the crippling 24/7 irrational fear.

The best way I can describe how it feels to be an anxious extrovert is to use this analogy.

OK, so when we were all kids and we went to the swimming pool do you all remember the crippling fear that there was a shark at the bottom just waiting to eat your little legs?

Well, imagine that you’re standing on the diving board of said pool knowing that there is possibly a shark in there but not caring because you want to be the first of your friends to jump in.

That’s how it feels to be an anxious extrovert.

24/7, 365.

Like all mental illnesses, some days are better than others, and I can circumvent the anxiety and have a decent day out with friends.

However, even on a good day, it’s not really a good day.

That biting at the back of your skull will be there no matter how much common sense and self-love you try and muster.

And guess what?

That’s OK.

It’s OK to be anxious all the time.

It’s OK to cancel plans with friends because you’re just really not feeling up to it. If they’re really your friends they won’t care.

It’s OK to admit that you need help, nobody is going to think any less of you.

It’s OK to go out with your friends and have a great time, nothing bad has ever come from having a movie night with the people you love most.

So, yes, being an anxious extrovert is absolutely horrible, but it is also who I am.

I can’t change the fact that I get have these two sides constantly battling for dominance, any more than I can change the fact that I prefer tea to coffee; and neither can you.

Nobody can change who they are, the good or the bad.

Who we are is who we are, and we can’t allow societal expectations and pressures prevent us from being our best selves.

So if you’re also an anxious extrovert like me, take a deep breath, watch "Thor: Ragnarok," light a candle and think about how amazing and strong you are.

You'll get through this, and you'll come out on the other side stronger and more resilient than ever.