The Agony of Small Talk: Fear of Jumping In

I am horrible at small talk, it's anxiety producing, and I am not always sure how to partake. But isolation is not the answer. Here's how I am learning to jump in.

If you asked me to do a speech in front of 500 people, I would ask who is the audience - and for how long. You tell me I will be in a cafe with the ladies who lunch, and my anxiety is soaring trying to figure out what to say.

That’s the situation I find myself in now as I navigate this new phase of my life.

I moved from the Buffalo, NY region to the Jersey Shore in 2017, right around the corner from my best friend. And then she moved.

Suddenly I am in a new area without any social network. I’ve empty nested, and Tim and I work from home - so there aren’t any (forced) social occasions. For the past six years or so, dance is my social - but once the music starts there is no conversation. And while I love my husband, I am desperate for chitchat.

One night after class, one of the women asked a group of us standing around her to go out. I’m not even sure it was directed at me, but I jumped at the opportunity. And once there, I froze, and picked at a hang-nail on my thumb.

The conversation seemed to flow so easily between the rest of them. I saw a brow raise and hands gesticulating. Everyone leaned in, so I knew it was something important. I leaned in too. They were finishing each other’s sentences and laughing freely at things I had no clue about.

At that moment, I realized: I don’t know how to do small talk.

For me, small talk is akin to playing Double Dutch jump rope and having to figure out when to leap - without getting tangled up.

Even talking about the weather creates stress. If it’s uncharacteristically hot in October, I struggle not to want to talk about climate change. When they voice how much they hate property taxes in the northeast, I try to keep my mouth shut about how I know people in Florida paying thousands a month in home insurance.

I mean, what is the purpose behind talking about the weather? What is the goal? The strategy? It’s all surface, and surface talk is not my native language. And when I was working full time, raising kids, and just keeping my head above water, I didn’t have time to partake.

I’m used to communication having a purpose—a point, a goal, something to achieve. In fact, I built a career on it. I am mindful of my audience, their likes and dislikes, and what drives their interests. My superpower was to take something banal and turn it into something deep and interesting. But turning conversation into something deep is at odds with the assignment of small talk. And so, I am lost.

In small talk, people aren’t necessarily sharing actionable information, there isn’t necessarily a clear destination. People are throwing out loose threads that somehow turn into a net that bonds the group together. As a former reporter and long-time editor, I thrive in purposeful communication and struggle when there isn’t a point to be made. That isn’t me being snotty. I am enthralled by people who can hold a forum, be engaged – and say almost nothing.

Part of my discomfort and awkwardness comes from the nature of group dynamics. I almost never feel like I belong to the group. It probably stems from high school. I was a nerd in school who took 11th grade math in 9th grade. I didn’t fit in there. I also played volleyball, so I hung out with the jocks. But I also wore stockings and heels, which meant I could talk to the popular girls - but kept me at bay from either of the aforementioned groups. I was never at home in any clique - I found all of them interesting. To this day, I still flit from social group to social group.

Which means I am always playing catch up to the klatch-of-the-day. Klatch, by the way, is Yiddish for gossip.¹

I used to think gossip was just idle chatter, but then I did some research that changed my perspective. Turns out, gossip is more than just talking behind people's backs—it’s a way of building trust.

In his book, Grooming, Gossip and the Evolution of Language, Robin Dunbar points out that in the animal kingdom, primates groom each other to bond. We don’t pick fleas off of each other, but we use language in the same manner. In a 1997 British study² that he authored, Dunbar found that both males and females spend about 65% of the day “gossiping.” It is an elixir to social isolation. Generally speaking, women gossip about their children, husbands, and own insecurities. They learn tips on parenting, dealing with illness, and vacation planning. Men gossip about sports and where to find a good contractor. In the workplace, men and women pass down tribal knowledge, and share concerns about their jobs.

Only a tiny fraction of gossip, 3-4%, is actually negative. (Bad Gossipers give Good Gossipers a bad name.)

I never had a problem with the workplace “gossip.” Probably because I knew my role - and my audience. And in social circles, I guess I am a 1:1 gossiper - which pretty much throws conversation back into the purpose-driven category. You tell me a problem, and we can work together to solve it. I have a better handle as to where the lines are - the areas to avoid, and the areas to double down. I might have been a good friend - but I doubt anyone would characterize me as the fun friend.

I know I can turn a light conversation into a full-blown dissertation. A simple mention of the price of eggs, and suddenly I’m giving a TED Talk on avian flu and the euthanization of millions of chicks. Silence is not only deafening - it is humbling. No one wants to hear my bird flu lecture - particularly over omelets.

There is another aspect of small talk that freezes me. When the conversation is 1:1, I can test the water and adjust. I can broach a subject and gauge the temperature; see how the other person responds. But that analysis is hard to do as a group. In an effort to not guess wrong, I struggle to partake.

My craving human communication and connection is pushing me out of my comfort zone. One of the steps I’ve taken is to re-define the purpose. I am not trying to show people how smart I am or troubleshoot a problem. I am trying to connect and engage - for however a fleeting moment.

Here’s some tactics I now use:

1. Find safe subjects: Travel, Recipes, Binge-watching - although until I know my audience better - I stay away from The Handmaid’s Tale.

2. Ask questions: Not just what are you doing this weekend - but where do you suggest I buy shoes for a wedding? Or, where should I take my vegan friend? People in general like to help - and this gives them a chance to connect with me!

3. Offer compliments: A simple compliment is an ice breaker. (I really appreciated your thank you note!)

4. Laugh: I have learned to quip - usually with hyperbole. If a person is sharing how overloaded they are, I might say something like “What, you can’t do an addition on your house at the same time?” They love it - and will probably use it themselves with someone else.

In my class, I overheard a woman sharing how she was going to Palermo, Sicily - so I mentioned that Tim and I were going in October. She actually messaged me from Sicily with pictures and some great suggestions!

Small talk may never feel as natural to me as delivering a keynote or leading a deep-dive discussion, but now I see it for what it is—connection. It’s not about solving the world’s problems, but about jumping in at the right moment, just like Double Dutch. And sometimes, that’s enough.

1. a Coffee Klatch is an informal gathering for small talk.

2. Human Nature. Human Conversational Behavior, Robin Dunbar, University of Oxford, et al. September 1997.