I’m terrible at small talk. You know why I think so? Because I wouldn’t want to have a conversation with me.
So I’ve come to accept how people’s eyes glaze over as they seek the most polite form of exit. And I know why they get unnerved too. Because I’m one shift-eyed dude.
For some reason, I can never get my facial expressions to react accordingly. Because of that, I tend to overthink, and what results is usually just me twitching at the lips when I should be smiling.
Why am I telling you all this? Because the past few months have taught me a lot about socialising. Which is a big deal because I tend to be a hermit.
Lessons in socialising
As someone who hates the idea of small talk, I’ve since learned to embrace the skill. Because it’s not just an inane act. It’s actually a prerequisite to getting to know someone better.
After all, you can’t ask someone you’ve just met about the meaning of life, right?
But perhaps the more interesting lesson I’ve learned is that my awkwardness is a feature and not a bug. Some people can walk into a room and command attention. Me? I’m more of the guy you forget right after.
But that’s good, you see. Because I can screw up my conversations with you, and you probably won’t remember it the next time we meet.
Still, that’s not the biggest takeaway I got from my social jaunts. My biggest lesson is—and if I were to condense it for you in the least amount of words possible—this: Don’t be afraid of looking stupid.
The ways you can look stupid
Want to look stupid? It’s easy. In fact, most things in life bear that risk. You could voice something out in a meeting, only to learn that the topic was just covered five minutes ago.
You could send a proposal to a client, only to learn that you totally missed the brief they gave.
You could even mistake lemongrass for spring onions at the supermarket, then botch your recipe at home (totally didn’t happen to me).
But you know what happens after you look stupid? Nothing. At least in terms of dying of embarrassment. You’ll find progress in that department to be lacking, to say the least.
You will, however, get the ball rolling. And you’ll find your ‘stupid’ actions instrumental in getting you to the next step.
So if we go back to the small talk example, sure, you may feel stupid talking about the weather, but you’re at least starting a conversation.
And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from being in rooms full of strangers, it’s that people are more receptive to familiar faces, even if that face only asked them about the weather once before.
Likewise, bringing up a moot point in a meeting may seem like social suicide, but anecdotally, I’ve found those who speak up—no matter what the topic—are often seen in a better light than the quiet ones.
Whatever you put out in the world doesn’t need to be a final product
I think the biggest area we get hung up on is thinking that everything we do or say has to be the most enlightening piece of wisdom known to man. Every e-mail needs to be ironed out from all angles. All conversations need to be meaningful.
But you know what I think? The best products are moulded into fruition instead of being perfect from the get-go.
Think of all your subjective pursuits as a first draft that can be shaped as you go, instead of do-or-die situations that hinge on one opportunity.
How to get over the fear of looking stupid
So maybe you’re looking for more concrete methods that you can apply in your life. Don’t worry, because I got your back.
Through my own anxiety surrounding social events, I’ve developed a few techniques to help alleviate the stress of putting myself out there, and here are the ones I use the most to get me through the fear of looking stupid.
First, I focus on the other person. So I notice their clothes. Their accessories. How they speak louder or faster when broaching upon their topics of interest. How they must be feeling the same inside.
The more I redirect my attention to the other person, the less I focus on my own feelings and shortcomings. And the less I think about myself, the easier it is to converse without those pesky micro-pauses thanks to my second-guessing.
This goes hand in hand with the second technique, which is to think of conversation as a way of giving back to the world.
If you’re an introvert like me, you’ll already know how much effort talking requires. Which is why when you shoulder the burden and do the talking, you’re actually helping others.
So yes, even if you sound stupid, you’ll at least take the load off someone else, and they’ll be grateful to you for doing so. And once you see things that way, suddenly looking stupid becomes a small price to pay.
Lastly, if you need something more tangible as reassurance, then I’ve found that researching the people or event allows you to prep in advance.
So if I have access to the guest list, I make sure to stalk the attendees so that I’ll know what to ask them based on their social media profiles.
Or let’s say I’m attending the launch of a latest car model. Then I make sure to study the automobile industry a little so that I have conversational fodder ready whenever I speak to key persons at the event.
Don’t let this fear hold you back
Writing this article has highlighted how much of my life was governed by my fear of looking stupid.
I hate hitting the Publish button because I fear it’d be a stupid post. I don’t like making phone calls because I don’t want to look stupid. I’m afraid of asking for things for the very same reason.
Who knew that being a bumbling idiot in conversations would actually teach me how to live life better?
And it’s with that intention that I end this post right here. I’m going to be honest and admit that I feel stupid writing this post.
But you’ll probably forget about this by the time next week rolls around.
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Stuart Danker 
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