Looking Back on One Year of Small-Group Conversations

We started with "I Wish I Had More Friends" on August 23, 2022.

It was a year ago this week that we kicked off small-group conversations with “I Wish I Had More Friends.” Announcing that first event, I had no idea how people would respond. I didn’t even know if eight people would sign up. What started as one sold-out group turned into dozens more. What started as a conversation about friendship led to other gatherings focused on self-care, change, being single / dating, the holidays, boundaries, confidence and starting something new. Best of all, what started as nine strangers meeting via Zoom to talk about friendship, turned into actual friendships between folks not only in different states but different countries and continents as well. (Shout-out to Lyndal and Marlei in Australia, and my man Brian in Scotland!)

As you can see in the photo above, some of the relationships that began online, turned into friends gathering without the help of a computer. Zoom provided a place for our paths to cross, technology was certainly a subplot, but the real story was connection.

Reflecting on the last year of small-group conversations won’t happen only in this post. I want to take my time processing and sharing, but I’m happy to offer three initial takeaways here.

From “I Wish I Had More Friends” to Having More Friends

The topic we started with was personal for me. The title, “I Wish I Had More Friends,” was a statement I found myself feeling and expressing. After the heaviness and disappointment of the Trump years, moving back to Florida during the pandemic, leaving TWLOHA, seeing the end of yet another situationship, being 42 (at the time) and single / never married / no kids—it was a lonely season both personally and professionally.

When I decided to host a conversation about friendship, I did not expect to make new friends. It felt important to be aware of power dynamics and the fact that I was the only one getting paid. I was there to serve. I had a job to do.

As groups of strangers began gathering around a shared problem, I did not anticipate that these strangers and our gathering might actually be part of the solution. I don’t mean talking about or pointing to solutions outside the groups, though we certainly did that. I mean that our time together sharing openly and honestly, seemed to provide some of the change that we were seeking.

While I certainly hoped that other people might experience what I now understand to be connection, I could not have known that a year later, these groups would serve as the most consistent source of connection in my life.

There have been so many moments of people feeling seen and heard, and I’ve had a front-row seat. I’ve watched new friendships start to form and then grow strong. I’ve also been able to experience and participate in these things, not only in the lives of others but in my own life too. This has been a huge surprise and an incredible gift. Quite simply, there are people I now count as friends because of these groups.

“We need a witness to our lives.”

Someone shared this quote in one of the groups around the start of the year. The words come from Beverly Clark and she was actually writing about marriage. Most of the folks who show up for small-group conversations are not married, and I’m not married, but these words have stayed with me. The idea of needing a witness to our lives has reframed the way I think about relationships, and connection. The people I cherish, the kinds of conversations I hope to have, they don’t center around advice or an exchange of information. There are certainly times I show up seeking an answer or opinion, and times when someone asks those things of me. For the most part though, I’m not looking for someone to tell me what to do. I’m looking for someone who wants to know and love me, even or perhaps especially in the parts of my life I’m not sure about, the parts that embarrass and scare me, the places still tender with grief, the places I feel shame. I want someone to know and love me on the good days too, the days I make progress, or accomplish something that I’m proud of.

I want to talk about all of it. I want to know I’m not alone. I want a witness to my life. Hopefully someday in romance but I want this in my friendships too. The groups, especially the Sunday group that has been meeting since the start of the year, have given us a taste of this. While we aren’t physically together as characters in each other’s stories day-to-day, we gather once a week to share. We listen and we laugh, we cry and ask questions. In doing so, we witness each other’s lives.

A Formula for Connection

Brené Brown defines connection as “the energy that exists between people when they feel seen, heard, and valued; when they can give and receive without judgment; and when they derive sustenance and strength from the relationship.”

It’s safe to say that Brené Brown is a lot smarter than me, but here’s my working theory when it comes to connection, a formula based on the last year of small-group conversations: When vulnerability is met with presence and attention, when vulnerability is met with kindness, empathy, compassion and encouragement, I believe this leads to connection.

There are a lot of sweet words in that last long sentence, but it starts with vulnerability. Which is to say it starts with being honest. People don’t connect over the favorite color they have in common, or by talking about recent vacations and busy schedules and favorite restaurants. I’m not saying we can’t show interest in those things, but I am willing to suggest that meaningful relationships will be fueled by meaningful conversations. Because true connection requires depth. It requires sharing who we really are, how we’re really doing, what’s really going on. We bond over the hard stuff. Scars I can relate to, someone who sees and doesn’t run from mine, permission to discuss our dreams and what we love—it all becomes a bridge, one that says I’m not alone on my own island, one that says people can visit me, and I can go to them.

Something else I’ve come to believe is that vulnerability on its own is not enough to foster connection. If you spill your guts to someone but the person you tell is busy looking at their phone, you’re not going to experience connection. While vulnerability is perhaps the key ingredient, our secret sauce requires more. Vulnerability has to be met with presence and attention. This is one of my favorite things about the small-group conversations taking place on Zoom. I love the irony that even though we use technology to get together, it’s the longest I go without looking at my phone. We give each other the gift of our attention and our presence.

So now we’re almost there. We’ve got vulnerability. We’re paying attention. But there are still a few things missing. If you spill your guts to your friend, and your friend is listening, but then they change the subject or don’t say anything at all, you’re not going to experience connection. The response that you are met with is hugely important. Which brings us to the rest of the formula. Kindness, empathy, compassion and encouragement—these things help a person feel safe, feel heard, feel cared for. This is where the small-group folks shine. Person after person, hour after hour, conversation after conversation, kind hearts are on display. Communicating in a real way invites the people around us to do the same. The goodness becomes contagious. Over and over I get to see empathy. When one among us is struggling, members of the group show up, willing to say how they relate, willing to be in the same boat. When someone talks about a dream, but also how they feel stuck or how the dream feels out of reach, they are met with encouragement. Not false hope or toxic positivity, but I see you, I want that for you, and I believe in you.

I’ve become a huge fan of follow-up questions as well. Which is kind of the opposite of responding with advice or a suggestion. Someone is showing us they paid attention and instead of running away or getting distracted, they’re showing us they care by asking for more. A good follow-up question tells us that someone wants to know us, and part of what makes the question feel good is that it relates to something we just shared. The question itself comes from listening, comes from knowing what we said. In the process, through this exchange, we get to feel known.

When it all comes together, all of these ingredients, we end up with connection. We end up in meaningful conversations that lead to meaningful relationships. We end up feeling seen and heard and even loved.

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Thank You to everyone who has joined me for a small-group conversation over the last year. Hopefully this post gives you an idea of how much the time together has meant to me. We will be celebrating with a reunion, two weeks from today. If you’ve been part of one group or a bunch of groups, at any point along the way, you are definitely invited. For more info and to grab a ticket, click the image below or visit my online store.

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