You cannot connect with anyone while performing a version of yourself

In Why I Love, the practice for connecting with others begins with one principle: I listen to the people close to me with my phone put away, and I tell them what is actually happening with me instead of the version that sounds fine. When I want to impress someone, I refuse to play a polished version of myself that is easier to like. You cannot connect with anyone while performing an image.

On my first day of high school, the school handed every student a laptop. I had just come out of a summer where I decided to stop hiding, and I genuinely wanted to connect with my classmates. But in every class and every break, everyone was staring into a glowing screen, and I felt myself going numb. Two weeks later, I walked into the counselor's office and asked to switch to the humanities. She told me I would have to give up my computer, and I said gladly with a huge smile on my face.

But as I got older, I made a major mistake: I confused popularity with real connection. Popularity fills your ego for a few minutes, but leaves you starving for genuine depth. I performed constantly, hiding interests that wouldn't land and never admitting an insecurity, waiting for other people to prove it was safe while they were waiting for me. The loneliest I ever felt was in rooms full of smiling people, because none of them were meeting me—they were meeting my performance.

Many people call themselves introverts and say that socializing completely drains them. I used to say that too, but I have come to believe that most of that exhaustion is not caused by the people in the room. It is caused by the invisible effort of the performance: trying to be witty, trying to appear interesting, and hiding your vulnerabilities. When you stop trying to be interesting and simply become curious about the person in front of you, the social pressure evaporates.

Authenticity can also become its own subtle defense. For a while, I called myself an authentic rebel and used it to look down on others as superficial. But that wasn't real connection; it was just a new mask with a more flattering label. Real connection is much smaller and quieter: using the barista's name, asking how their day is going, and treating the people you pass as human beings rather than transactions.

For your next social interaction, try this one rule: ask, don't present. Your only task is to find out one real, authentic thing about one person, without needing any impressive fact about yourself to land. Notice how much less energy the evening costs you when you leave your mask at home. Pre-orders for Why I Love are open below; what is one way you find yourself performing around others?