Gutsy.

A practice in being together better

Where this started

I’m Susannah. I built the first version of Gutsy for the person I used to be: someone who got other people to order for her in restaurants, dreaded the phone, and felt her heart pound at the thought of speaking up in a meeting. I wanted to help people like that to build self-trust, get more comfortable with taking risks, and open up to more ease and connection.

For years, that’s exactly what Gutsy was – workshops and courses, using specially adapted drama and gentle improvisation, built for shy and socially anxious people.

Then I started noticing that what actually created change wasn’t only the exercises and tools – it was the practice of doing the work together in a group. The moments when, sitting in an opening circle, someone said something they’d always kept secret out of shame – and were met with nods and smiles of recognition, and everyone’s shoulders dropped.

Gutsy founder Susannah Worth sitting in a park with eyes closed, resting face in her hands
Susannah sitting in the park, face up to the light and smiling

The moments when people found their own unique way to take part – so that instead of “no, I can’t do that” it became “in this way, I can”, and the group adjusted to meet them. The moments when speaking wasn’t required to take part, and people felt a new kind of permission to just be without trying to prove themselves.

That’s when belonging happens. And it’s not because everyone in the room was the same; it’s because it was safe to drop their guard and be seen.

So building confidence and building belonging stopped feeling like two separate projects. Gutsy, now, tries to do both: help people find courage from the inside, and build the kind of groups – circles, gatherings, ways of coming together – that demand less of them to begin with.


The next question

Once I started asking how to design a group for someone who finds groups hard, I couldn’t stop noticing how far that question reaches. It isn’t only about shyness. A lot of us feel some version of it: wanting to get involved in something that matters to us – a cause, a campaign, a creative project, a community – and not knowing how to start. Worried we’ll get it wrong, or that we don’t belong, or that everyone else already knows what they’re doing.

I feel it too. I’ve done collaborative projects, attended protests, given money, turned up to a few things – but still, I’ve often held back more than I meant to.

Plenty of people who’d never call themselves shy feel a version of this: doubting what they have to offer, nervous before a gathering, replaying something they said afterwards, or seeing a project that lights them up but then quickly deciding it’s “not for me”.

Susannah, headphones round her neck, looking up to the sky, with a calm smile
Small groups of people sat on the grass silhouetted against the sunrise

Part of the problem is visibility. Some parts of contributing get noticed – the one with the loudhailer, the face of a campaign, the talking-to-camera video for social media. Other parts mostly don’t – the steward at the edge of that same march, the person who wrote the leaflet, the years spent quietly keeping a residents’ group or community garden or DIY venue or repair café going. So it’s easy to conclude that contributing means putting yourself in the spotlight, or that it’s not something people like you do.

As I thought about all this, Sarah Corbett’s Activism Needs Introverts talk put language to some of what I’d been noticing. So did the sheer number of people online asking some version of: we want to help, but how? This wasn’t a niche problem.

So it started to feel like the Gutsy practice could be applied to something wider. Helping people feel welcome, safe and steadier in a room, but also helping them find a way into the things they already care about: lived out loud, instead of just believed in quietly.

This work is still young and in progress – find out more at Gutsy Projects.


Close to home

Susannah looks out the window, cat on her lap gazing in the same direction

“You’re too shy for journalism.”

That’s what I was told as a teenager, bedroom walls covered in Kerrang! cutouts, wanting more than anything to write about music. And I believed it for a long time.

I didn’t become a journalist. But I did build a successful editorial business, publish a book about feminist performance art, and give talks at galleries and art schools. I also played drums in a synth punk band, toured Europe, and talked live on the radio. And created Gutsy. All while still being the same sensitive introvert underneath it all.

And I’m still shy sometimes. Turns out shyness and guts aren’t opposites.

What Gutsy offers now

Courses

occasional · in person · small groups

The deep end. Drama, improvisation and embodied practice, run in small groups so they can stay high-touch and closely held. Not scheduled often – kept special on purpose.

Circles

online & off · cosy · occasional

A practice in deep listening, slow sharing, and belonging – one object at a time. Built on Props – a single thing to hold, a doorway into whatever’s on your mind – shared with others doing the same.

Projects

taking shape · still brewing

Closely held groups given the support to take part in volunteering and community projects, so showing up for something bigger doesn’t take more confidence than you’ve got yet. Still early – growing slowly, sharing learnings in the newsletter.

Resources

guides · prompts · tools

Shorter, standalone things to take away and use in your own time. No group, no schedule – just something useful when you want it.

Read more about Gutsy

Personal essays plus regular updates on what I’m learning as I build a practice in being together better, and how you can be part of it. ↗