Some of Us Were Never Built for Small Talk

Notes from the In-Between: A series about the season where life changes and you don’t yet know what comes next.

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My daughter said something recently that stopped me.

She said she is a really nice person and she doesn’t understand why she has so few close friends. I knew exactly what she meant because I am the same way. And it took me a long time to stop treating that as if it was something to fix.

Some of us are just all in or not at all kind of people.

When we are present, we are fully present. And when we’re not, we would rather be alone than pretend otherwise. Small talk has always felt like a foreign language. We want something real enough that it actually lands. It’s harder than it sounds in a world where everyone performs their life out loud.

So we tend to end up at the edges. Watching. Quietly waiting for the person who wants to talk about something more.

My dad was the same way. Every conversation had meaning. We used to tease him about it. You either went deep or you didn’t really talk at all. I didn’t realize I inherited that, or that it was even something you could. I just thought I was an introvert.

I tried to fix it for a long time. I really did want to be that person who showed up at events and moved effortlessly from one conversation to the next. So I showed up. Made the effort. I got better at it but still something about it never quite fit.

I could do it. I just didn’t ever feel like myself in it. Like I was putting on a mask and it was exhausting.

And many times I would drive home feeling like I had been there without really being there. Like I had performed some alternate version of myself.

And nobody noticed, because many of them were performing too.

What I know now is that this isn’t a flaw. It’s just how some of us are built. Private about what matters most. Careful about who knows the real version of us. All in with the people who actually know us, and content to be alone rather than surrounded by people who don’t.

The friends I have, I would do anything for. Most I’ve known since I was a teenager, with a few added along the way. We don’t talk every day. Sometimes weeks go by. Sometimes even years. But the thread holds, because it was never built on performance. It was built on something real, and that doesn’t need constant maintenance.

That is not a small life. It’s just a specific one.

When my daughter asked her question, I didn’t tell her something was wrong with her. I told her she was like me and like her grandfather. And that the people worth having are worth waiting for.

Some people are built for wide circles.

Some are built for depth.

And if you’ve ever felt like you don’t quite fit in the first one, it might just be because you were never meant to.

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Related reading from Notes from the In-Between

Why You Go Blank When Someone Offers Help

Why You're Still Waiting To Show Up For Yourself

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