I’m new to Sonoma County and actively in pursuit of new friends, new community, and a new sense of belonging. After 17 years of feeling very embedded in my beloved Muir Beach, I feel oddly vulnerable in a town where I barely know anyone. With my new empty nest, with my housemate of 13 years now in New Hampshire, with my parents both gone, with most of my family 3 time zones away, with only my partner Jeff for connection, co-regulation, fun, and support, I feel oddly skinless. Unprotected. Wobbly. Scared.
It doesn’t help that the world is the way it is right now. But I suspect that even if that were still the case, if I was surrounded by my wonderful Muir Beach neighbors and knew that they had my back, and I had theirs, if the shit hit the fan, I’d feel less unsteady. Now my partner is off at his new job and I’m home with the dog, by myself. It’s weird. Quiet. Just our chickens cheeping away and the wind chimes blowing in the wind. As soon as dusk hits, the frogs from the creek in our backyard will pipe up.
Being relatively isolated here is requiring me to do something I haven’t had to do in a long time, something most of my parts actively resist. I’m going to have to put myself out there in situations where I’m surrounded by strangers who might be open to meeting new people. I’m going to have to push my parts out of their comfort zone, assert myself vulnerably, and ask if I can sit down and talk to someone.
I’m thinking of joining a square dancing club. Or taking a sewing class at the local library. Maybe there’s a local band that needs a background vocalist or an artists’ coop I can join. Yesterday, this meant joining a local wine club that was a having a members’ picnic among the grapevines. As someone who is most comfortable with depth and intimacy with my close inner circle peeps, milling among strangers while day drinking is not my favorite thing to do, but it’s a start.
I was so tempted to just sit at a small private table with Jeff and my dog, but that would defeat the point. So I left Jeff to work on his writing in a back corner and tried to read faces to see who would be open to a stranger introducing herself. I chose a picnic table with four vivacious women in brightly colored sundresses and one little girl. I explained my situation, asked where they lived, discerned that they lived within 15 minutes of me, and asked if I could join them. They were laughing and cheerful and welcomed me with a friendly wave.
After listening to them talk for a while, I focused on the one sitting closest to me, and then dropped my favorite pick up line, which is one of many conversation starters I’ll be sharing in DATING FROM SELF, my upcoming weekend Zoom IFS workshop for anyone wanting to meet new people for romance, friendship, or whatever.
Save $100 if you register for DATING FROM SELF by May 11th at midnight Pacific Time.
Instead of “What Do You Do?” Try “What’s Your Story?”
I asked my new potential neighbor/ friend, “What’s your story?”
She’d been chattering away, but when I asked this, she stopped chatting, tilted her head to the left the way my dog does when she’s curious, and asked, “Which story?”
I said that’s the best thing about the invitation. It’s completely open-ended. Her mission, should she choose to accept it, is to answer the question in a way that guides the conversation in whatever direction she wants to lead us. It’s the opposite of asking “What do you do?” which tends to evoke a conversation about career or staying home with kids or caregiving for one’s parents. If someone wants to stop me in my tracks, all they have to do is ask me what I do. Suddenly, I’ll be rushing off to the toilet and never coming back. Because I’ve never figured out my elevator pitch well enough to be capable of answering that question in a way that steers the conversation anywhere good.
Usually, telling people what I do for a living leads to one of five unpleasant outcomes. If I tell them I’m trained as an OB/GYN, they either tell me about their horrible childbirth, their menopause, or their vaginal infection. Or they ask me to check out some mole on their skin. Or they want free medical advice. Then I have to tell them I no longer practice medicine, keep up to date on anything gynecologic, or carry malpractice insurance, so I can’t risk giving curbsides. They often look disappointed, offended, or embarrassed that they’ve overexposed themselves.
If I tell them I’ve published 8 books, they ask if they can send me their manuscript, get me to read their book, help them get an agent, or ask for free advice about publishing. Then I have to break it to them that this is how I make my living, and I can’t offer what I do for a living at no charge. And then the energy is off, and weird vibes abound.
If I tell them I work in mental health and basically function as an educator in the trauma field, they start telling me about the most hellacious trauma of their life, and the floodgates open, and suddenly we’re in floodlighting territory and neither of us quite know what to do. I just offer empathy and then try to backpedal a little, while wondering whether I should refer them to a good therapist.
If I tell them I teach doctors what we should have learned in med school but didn’t, they start telling me about their medical trauma and how their doctor harmed them in the most intrusive, violating, traumatizing way possible. I nod and validate their stories and wind up talking about moral injury and narcissism in medicine, while wondering, once again, if I need to take responsibility for therapy referrals.
If I tell them I teach narcissistic abuse survivors with chronic illness how to move beyond “relationsickness” into recovery, I get an earful about their narcissist-of-choice, which usually comes with a lot of rage, tears, or both. And another therapy referral.
But somehow, “What’s your story?” hits just the right note of vulnerability and good boundaries.
I explained to my potential new friend that if she loves permaculture and wants to talk about it, she can tell me the story of her garden. If nothing delights her more than her pets, she can tell me the funniest thing her cat has ever done. If she wants to dive deeper, quicker, she can tell me an unconventional love story from her life. If she wants to get mystical, she can tell about her most mysterious spiritual experience. And of course, if the story she wants to tell me is about her work, by all means, go for it.
She paused and found her Goldilocks “just right” story. It was the perfect opener to a well-boundaried but fun conversation with someone new. We wound up having a lovely time and exchanged phone numbers, and she gave me some tips for where to meet other people I might find interesting.
I made a faux pas later on when I asked a handsome guy who sat down with us if he was a wine club member, too. He said, “I own the place,” and then my new friend took a Polaroid photo of the two of us that made me look like I had three chins. All things considered, I wound up with three phone numbers and a few leads for other fun things to do, and a newsletter list to subscribe to to find other local activities. I also got to listen to a bunch of interesting stories while picking different stories to introduce myself with, including one that was completely fictional, because the person asked if we could make up fantasy stories. We both decided, after a glass of really kick ass Pinot Noir, “Why not?”
You Can Do Better Than Dog Whistles or “You From Around Here?” Pickup Lines
If you’re experimenting with online dating, trying to meet new friends, seeking a healthy community, or just looking for a way to make a cocktail party less miserable, try it! Ask “What’s your story?”
You’ll get so much information about the new person in front of you just by listening to how they answer that question. And then notice…do they return the curiosity? Do they ask you for your story or do they monologue for the next two hours, which is a sign you’re talking to someone high on the narcissism spectrum.
Assuming they reciprocate curiosity about you, be prepared to tell your own story, taking charge of the story you want to present as your opening conversation.
Ponder the question for a moment…What’s your story?
If you’re curious to learn other ways to get to know new people, whether you’re dating, seeking new friends, in an open relationship, or otherwise trying to figure out what kind of humans you most enjoy, join us for DATING FROM SELF, a weekend Zoom IFS workshop focused on how to get to know which parts of you show up in response to other people and their parts! We’ll be giving you tips and tools for connecting with new people, putting your best face forward without being fake, getting to know who’s on your “meet new people” team, learning how and when to disclose the hard stuff, and considering things like good boundaries around new people, when to get vulnerable, when to hold back, and what it means to earn someone’s trust and figure out whether they’re trustworthy, before you get too attached or foster too much attachment in them.
The price for the workshop goes up soon, so if you want to join us, now’s the time to sign up!
Save $100 on tuition for DATING FROM SELF if you register now.
We hope to see you and all of your parts May 17-18. If you can’t make it live, we’ll be recording the workshop and you can enjoy it later.