Talking to strangers is a symptom of ageing
And it's actually pretty cool
When I was a teenager I found everything my Mum did was embarrassing. That she talked about vegetables and how good they were to eat. That she always pointed out the positive side of a teacher I hated.
That’s the natural law right? We think our parents are cool, then we start to form our own identity and we reject the shit they do. We then (eventually) do the shit they do ourselves.
However, I’ve noticed that many of the things I thought were cringey are okay. More than okay. Actually cool.
One of them is talking to complete strangers.
I have always been a social person. I believe that connection is what we’re here for. Not big houses with identikit box kitchen extensions on the back (I can’t afford one so diss them frequently). Not cars that are so large and shiny we run over creatures, and don’t notice them quietly expiring under our wheels. Not smooth, puffy faces. Or even nice floaty tops that go well with dungarees (though based on my browsing history I haven’t quite absorbed this fact just yet).
The funny thing is I have social anxiety. Talking to people sucks my energy because I throw myself into it. I do the emotional equivalent of pulling on plastic overalls, welly boots and gloves. I ready the heck up. I don’t do much of the small bants stuff. Sure I can do a few rounds of weather convo, as much as the next UK dork, but I soon tire and would rather look at my phone if that’s what we’re bringing to the table today. I don’t actually need to know what is happening with rain later.
I get lubed up by chat that connects me to another person.
Historically my talking and connecting has been with people I have an existing connection with - a friend, friend of a friend or mum in the park with a kid that has just flung a ton of sand in my kids face…not complete strangers.
However I noticed recently, as I rounded the corner into my fifties and faced the terrifying vision that I am actually fucking ageing, that I have started doing the thing my mum did when I was growing up. Talking to strangers. In shops. On buses. In the reception whilst waiting for a meeting. In fast food places. In cafes. Train stations. And I don’t mean just a perfunctory ‘great weather today but bit clammy this morning,’ kind of thing. No instead, I tend to launch (without much preamble), into something more personal than I’d originally intended, and I’ve found these monologues are often met with reciprocal sharing.
The equation being:
Share stuff about myself = I share stuff about myself too = connection
And the result? Well the result is an immediate connection with another human being. Bingo! Not always of course because I might judge it wrong, and get a roll of the eyes, or an impatient shrug (and that’s fine of course as I don’t want to force connection as that’s fucking awful).
This is what my Mum has done for a long time. She talks to people and gives them something personal about herself which hopefully creates a feeling of togetherness. I used to find this excruciating. Now I see it as a good thing.
My Gran did it too. She always told strangers she was fluent in Esperanto- ‘Do you want to hear me speak some right now?’ she’d ask, then launch into a few sentences, as we walked the streets of Paris, lost and looking for a cheap baguette that didn’t cost 14 quid (we once went in a sex shop together because she thought it was a museum and it didn’t phase her any). I’d die internally because I felt there was NO WAY this stranger wanted to hear this lady speak a language nobody was interested in. She’d then tell them a story about how she missed her husband, but knew she’d see him again soon.
I didn’t notice that people smiled when she spoke to them, that her vulnerability was a force for good
A recent survey revealed that half a million older people go at least five or six days a week without seeing or speaking to anyone. These everyday interactions, moments of mutual sharing, are vital for many people, but I’d argue they are also important for all of us. In total , 45% of adults feel occasionally, sometimes or often lonely in England. This equates to twenty five million people! So the likelihood is that many of us are going to be experiencing loneliness at some time in our lives. That we have it now whilst reading this thing. That even when we live with others we can feel lonely or disconnected.
Society is moving away from more connection with strangers in real life.
Our online existence is great but moves fast, and we might only have time to pop in a comedy emoji to someones story. Or a thumbs up. Or even a crying emoji face. I myself have responded curtly, and inappropriately to others’ significant news. I have felt like I needed to respond for the sake of responding rather than thinking about what I’m saying.
Stopping to chat to someone properly, moving beyond (if it feels okay) to something meaningful slows down time
It makes us feel less overwhelmed, less obsessed with ticking off our daily list, and it may help the person we are talking to feel more connected and less lonely too.
The kind of things I’ve shared with strangers include:
My tattoo that takes up 90% of my left arm (done on a whim without any prep and with a lot of regret now) - this led to a conversation about their tattoo and how they’d got it done to remember their mother
My father’s death and how much I miss him - this has usually opened up a conversation about how we need to really treasure the time with those we love that are still here
The inexplicable weight gain that comes post forty-five- this is possibly 85% of my convo this week
The tyranny of the beauty industry (this is less of a short convo starter but a good one if you are in the beauty department and want to get an expert perspective
How I’ve just resigned and am worried about what I’m going to do next - another hot topic and often one that I find others want to do but are too scared of the consequences and next steps
How much we feel that life isn’t as it should be but we don’t know what to do about it - the jury is obviously still out on this one
God and whether there is one - again something I feel like I’m thinking a lot about post Covid and grieving
For me it is always about opening up the convo, giving away some of myself, learning about the other person and making us feel that despite the fact the planet is dying, and there is an island that is made up of plastic bags, there is still connectedness between humans. It actually isn’t an active choice. It just happens. I am that age. I do that shit that my parents did.
As we age we learn that time it finite.
That people we love become the Earth.
That not to put too fine a point on it, we can’t be dicking around with the weather bants forever.
Or that on our deathbed we will not be thinking - ‘Shit I wish I’d talked more about how unpredictable the weather is right now.’
It is why Grandmothers tell strangers they speak Esperanto. That they loved their husbands. It is why my mother tells the cashier about her dog who can’t walk and pees on the floor.
It is why I talk about menopause and my fear of being irrelevant. Why a stranger tells me that she feels the same way too. It makes all of us feel connected. Like life has an actual purpose.
That there are small things we can do. That we are not becoming more and more alone.