I met with an acquaintance today partly because this person intimidates me and I was trying to break that barrier by getting to know her better. My hope was that we would find ways to bond and relate to each other and this connection would allow me to see her (and in return my response to her) in a different light.

Well, it didn’t work.

I left feeling empty. On the “good” side I’d found enough flaws in her to not feel intimidated. I realized several imperfections in her that maybe had not been so obvious to me previously. And I realized a bunch of other things that I find annoying. So maybe the intimidation is replaced by a different feeling now but it’s still not a good one. Not the one I was hoping for. The best way I can describe it was that it felt empty.

I thought about it for a long time afterwards and couldn’t put my finger on exactly what happened. Then, I realized that most of our talk was small talk. What I call “surface” conversations. Where you spend a bunch of time talking about nothing important. Agreeing, being politically correct, smiling but, in the end, saying nothing substantive.

This kind of interaction is not just non-ideal for me; it’s abhorrent. I cannot stand small talk. It’s a good thing I met my husband in college or I would not be able to date because of all the small talk it involves. This is the same reason I hate going to many social activities or reading blogs that talk about “nothing.” My husband’s great at small talk and I really admire his ability to do it, so I am not bashing small talk per se. Just saying I can’t do it. The whole time I am thinking of where else I’d rather be. Like reading a good book.

For me, spending time with a person is all about connecting. I guess it’s the same as my art. I need meaning. If it feels meaningless, I am not interested. I need to be engaged emotionally (ideally intellectually as well). I need to care. For me to care, there has to be meaning in the conversation.

I was reading Stephanie’s blog earlier and she does this new monthly challenge where you “blog your heart.” And while I love the idea of talking about the areas where you’re struggling or falling short, I think that’s not necessarily enough for me. That’s sort of what I realized today during my time with this woman. It became easy for me to see where she was falling short. I could suddenly see her shortcomings, worries around looking a certain way, etc. I even felt sorry for her for a minute when I realized it was so important to her to appear a certain way.

I wish we would do less judging for both good and bad. It feels nice to hear the “hard stuff” because it breaks down the walls of perfection we seem to create on behalf of other people. But while some people do maybe only share the good, the fact is we’re the ones looking for all the good. I know there are people in my life who struggle but also do well and I tend to focus on how well they do in areas where I struggle and I don’t even spend a moment thinking about their struggles. I just accentuate their good and measure it up against my bad. That’s *my* fault. Not theirs. So I like to hold myself responsible.

It’s human nature to want to hide your imperfections. It’s human nature to want to “look good.” But meaningful doesn’t have to be good or bad. It just has to be genuine. I feel just as much a connection when someone shares genuine joy with me. It’s the fake stuff I detest. And when we’re making a list of “rough stuff” I’ll admit the whole thing feels a bit fake to me. When you read someone else’s blog, do you really ever think they’re perfect? Have you ever met anyone who’s perfect? If you’re older than ten, you should already know no one (and I mean NO one) is perfect. It’s just not possible. Some people might be better than you are at certain things. But they have their own list of shortcomings, challenges, and grief. This is true across the board, bar NONE. So when you’re reading a blog and you feel “oh they are perfect” just remind yourself that they aren’t. They are just putting their best foot forward.

What I really wish is that even a five-minute cocktail conversation could be meaningful. I wish I could just say “Look I am not going to judge, I am not going to be jealous, I am here to connect. So be real. Tell me whatever you want to talk about. Don’t try to look a certain way for me. Be you. Whomever you are.” And then we could talk. Without fear, masks, fakeness.

Alas, I don’t know if it’s possible.

And I do know that often I do judge. Look how much I looked for the “wrong” in that woman this morning. Maybe because she was trying so hard to look good that I had to knock her down. To feel vindicated. But I don’t want to do that. I want her to feel supported. Know that I understand. That it’s hard. Life is hard. I get it. You have enough on your plate. You don’t have to worry about me. I am here without judgement. Open.

Can I be that, I wonder? And if so, how can I let the other person know? Can people connect meaningfully without years of friendship behind them?