Like most people who have relocated to a new town, my husband and I have spent the last few years getting to know new people. As we grow into our city and our children grow up, our circle of friends has naturally expanded. Between work promotions, changing schools, moving to new neighborhoods, new churches, etc we have had to forge many new friendships.
This has been pretty easy for me, but not always easy for my husband.
We recently had a chat and he was asking how I hit it off so frequently with new people. He is an amazing person but he is admittedly much quieter than I am, and he isn’t the type to engage with newcomers on the first try. It takes him a little to warm up and even then, he isn’t going to talk your ear off. He is much more introverted than me.
I, on the other hand, usually know your mother’s cousin’s brother’s life story by the time I finish introducing myself. I’m naturally extroverted so it comes easy to me, but when forced to examine how and why I end up “clicking” with so many people, I can’t help but reflect on a story from my childhood and some sage advice my mother gave me many years ago.
When I was in high school, I had a math teacher who wasn’t particularly fond of me. Mainly because I talked, A LOT! This will surprise no one that knows me. Oftentimes, this teacher would keep me after school for detention because I just couldn’t keep my mouth shut. Detention with her consisted of sitting in silence in her room and helping her grade papers. It was miserable and I was convinced she hated me. I would come home weekly and complain about how much this teacher HATED me and how unfairly she was treating me. My mother would patiently listen and then lecture me about shutting up. After one particular rant of mine, my mom suggested a new plan. “Why don’t you try talking to her,” she suggested. This seemed absurd to my teenage self.
“Just start by asking her about herself, people love to talk about themselves,” my mom suggested.
I scoffed at my mom’s advice, but the next day as I sat in awkward silence, once again, I decided to give it a shot. I asked Mrs. M if she had any children. Turns out she did, and she loved to talk about them. As I listened and asked questions about her kids, their interests, and their lives, before I knew it, detention was over. By the end of that week, I knew all there was to know about her life outside of the classroom.
In a weird turn of events, we were actually starting to like each other. So much so that I started to shut up (sort of) in her class, and she started to have me come in during my free period in school to help her grade papers and chat. By the time school ended that year, she was my favorite teacher, and I was one of her top students. I still have the note she wrote me at graduation that was full of praise and love. I will forever be thankful to my mom for that unsolicited advice that turned in to a great relationship with a wonderful mentor.
That same advice has carried me through many relationships and worked wonders in getting to know people each time we’ve moved. Showing a genuine interest in people by asking questions has served me well over the last 40 years, and I hope it may help some of you be brave enough to forge forward in new relationships in your life. So go ahead, make a new friend in the line at the grocery, ask the lady in the elevator where she got her shoes, put yourself out there just once this week and see where it leads.
