Why real connection has nothing to do with performing
Sometimes I catch myself mid sentence wondering who exactly I’m trying to impress. Like, why am I telling this story in such a dramatic way? Why am I stretching this joke? Who am I trying to be right now? And more importantly, what would happen if I just let the silence stay for a second instead of filling it with something clever?
There’s a kind of pressure that creeps in when you feel like you always have to be interesting. It doesn’t always show up loud and obvious. Sometimes it comes in soft the moment you pause too long in a conversation and feel the urge to say something quick, something sharp, something that will land. Just to keep the other person engaged. Just to avoid the silence that feels too vulnerable.
Performing instead of connecting
I’ve noticed that some people talk at you like they’re on stage. It’s not a conversation, it’s a monologue. A carefully rehearsed routine of stories and facts and little jokes they know will get a reaction. It’s not that they’re being fake. It’s that they’re afraid. Afraid that if they stop performing, they’ll be ignored. Or worse, they’ll be seen.
But the thing is, when everyone’s performing, nobody’s really connecting. You’re too busy thinking about what you’re going to say next. Too focused on being liked to actually listen. And it becomes this strange social dance where everyone’s exhausted and no one’s fed.
What makes a person truly interesting
The people who stay in my life aren’t the ones with the wildest stories or the best punchlines. They’re the ones who can sit with me in silence and not make it weird. They’re the ones who can say, “I don’t know,” without needing to sound smart. They’re the ones who ask questions and actually care about the answers.
There’s something magnetic about people who don’t try too hard. Who let their presence speak louder than their words. Who show up as they are, instead of curating a version of themselves they think others will like. That’s what’s truly interesting to me now not what you’ve done, but who you’re willing to be in the moment.
The fear of not being enough
At the root of this performance is usually fear. Fear that you’ll bore someone. Fear that you’ll be forgotten. Fear that if you’re not constantly engaging, you’ll lose your place in someone’s life. And I get that. We all want to be seen. We all want to matter. But somewhere along the way, we’ve confused being seen with being impressive.
The truth is, you don’t need to be interesting to be worthy of love, attention, or presence. You just need to be real. And sometimes real is quiet. Sometimes it’s messy. Sometimes it’s a little unsure. But it’s always enough.
Letting silence do its thing
One of the biggest shifts I’ve experienced is learning to let silence exist in conversation. Not in a passive aggressive way, not as a punishment, but as space. Space to feel. Space to think. Space to breathe. It’s in that space where the real stuff tends to show up.
We don’t need to fill every moment. We don’t need to perform to be valued. And honestly, the more I drop the pressure to be interesting, the more real my connections become. It turns out, the most beautiful conversations often come from the moments where no one’s trying to impress anyone.