What Changed My Attitude to Christmas Small Talk
I felt ridiculously exposed: white knuckled grip on my glass of champagne, standing in the middle of the bar. Pretending I was perfectly at ease. Pretending to participate in the conversation the three people were having next to me.
In reality, trying to control my breathing. In reality, trying to calculate how long I’d been there and if enough time had passed for me to ‘feel unwell’ and exit stage right.
A colleague came over to me. ‘I hate these things!’ I almost cried. ‘I hate standing around making stupid small talk!’
He shrugged. ‘Talk is only as small as you make it.’ And off he went, completely oblivious to the fact that he had just blown my mind. Literally, launched a bomb that was blowing up a system of carefully constructed beliefs that I’d spend a lifetime building.
Talk is only as small as you make it.
My brain flashed back through all the networking events, work conferences and Christmas parties I’d attended over the years. I remembered how uncomfortable I felt at all of them: the energy I put into worrying about that moment when conversation would run out around me and I’d be left standing by myself, forced to break into another group or bail early and then beat myself up about it all the way home, wishing I was one of those people who could make small talk and socialise effortlessly. But I wasn’t.
And with that bitter ball of shame and anxiety and envy for ‘those people’ in my gut, my defence mechanism came to the conclusion that all of these events were stupid. Up went the walls. Up went the carefully constructed system that I wasn’t like them, and I was proud to not be like them. And I created a self-fulfilling prophecy.
When, in any of those situations, had I consciously made an effort to ask questions that might have changed the conversation to one I could participate in more easily? When at these events, had I ever put aside my own ego, personal fears and anxiety long enough to understand that it takes two to have a conversation, and in blaming ‘those people’ for the level of conversation around me, I was committing a massive injustice?
What if I put the same energy and time I spent worrying about these events into asking questions and listening to the answers?
So as we head into Christmas party season, here’s a list of some questions I’m going to try out:
‘What do you do? What did you want to do when you were a kid? What would you do if money wasn’t an issue?’
‘What are your plans for the weekend? If you had no commitments and an unlimited amount of money what would you do on the weekend instead?’
‘Outside of work, what are you most passionate about?’
‘What made you smile today?’
‘What’s the coolest thing you’ve learned this year?’
‘What’s the best thing you’ve done this year?’
‘When was the last time you did something that scared you?’
Maybe it will work, maybe it won’t. But at least the next time I find myself standing in the middle of the bar, I’ll be excited about an opportunity to try out my new questions, instead of drowning in my own fears.
It’s a start.
Shireen Lenormand is a published writer and blogger. She loves sharing real-life stories that challenge the subconscious lenses we use to interact with the world.