are you *really* designing your space for connection or assuming it will just ... happen by itself?
a guide written from a perspective of a socially awkward overthinker
Have you ever felt this annoying sensation, a gut feeling after leaving an in-person event or a Zoom call, thinking - damn, I’m pretty sure there were so many interesting people sharing this space with me, what a shame we didn’t get to chat.
Not interesting in a transactional sense - you give me this, and I give you that, but just interesting to talk to. Wouldn’t it be cool to find out that the person next to you shares a similar taste in books, or has a unique view on life and love that makes you see yourself more clearly, or that we live in the same neighbourhood and can become workout buddies, or maybe - yes, introduce me to an awesome business opportunity. But I wouldn’t know because the conditions to connect were not there, and so I only know their name tag and their beverage of choice.
More and more online business owners began to see that an increasing number of people seek connection, in addition to knowledge. While a few years ago, many sales pages promised mastering a monetisable skill and a concrete, quantifiable outcome from completing the course or joining their membership, now, on top of that, they add a bonus - a supportive community of like-minded individuals.
That is amazing - and I write it with not even an ounce of irony. I’m so glad to see that more and more coaches question this model, which was sold worldwide as a holy grail for online entrepreneurs, of I speak, you listen without asking any questions that could undermine my authority. A very familiar dynamic, which brings back the memories of a beige high school classroom where I had to raise my hand to ask the teacher if I could go pee.
Now, I see more and more online biz owners who understand that each participant brings a unique blend of lived experience, interests and a point of view and it would be pretty cool if your course, membership or whatever you offer - allowed them to get to know each other better.
However … what often happens is that the connecting like - minded individuals part is left to chance, assuming that since these people are in the same space, the connection will naturally happen.
If we follow the same logic to an extreme, people who hop on the same bus line every morning can also be described as like-minded individuals, sharing a curated container, moving towards the same goal. And yet, we don’t see bus companies using the community element in their marketing, because that would be … a stretch ;) Just sharing a space is rarely enough for meaningful connections between strangers to happen.
And yes - nobody is stopping you from striking up a conversation, asking where they’re heading, what their dreams, fears and aspirations are. But - at least I - probably wouldn’t do it.
I’m not a person likely to be described as a life of the party, at least not at first. I wouldn’t call myself shy either - I’ve moved cities and countries so many times in my 20s that out of sheer necessity, I have learnt to find a way in a new group of people and make some friends wherever I went.
Still, socialising in a new group doesn’t come effortlessly to me. I still tend to overthink whether I come off as too eager, too intense, or, on the contrary, too quiet, too reserved.
Sometimes, I end up deciding to stay home or to watch the replay of the community call instead of joining in real time, because prior to the event, I have already used up my energy on overthinking and anticipating basic social interactions.
Some people reading this would think - well, your loss, you need to toughen up and show up anyway. Trust me, if I got a dime for every time I was told I’m too sensitive, well, with the current prices, I’d probably get a matcha latte or two, so not much, but the point is: I’ve heard it many times, and for the longest time, I believed that yes, this is solely my responsibility, this is fully on me.
But what if it’s not? What if it were a shared responsibility?
I, as a participant, share a responsibility to go a little bit over my comfort zone to show up and make these connections, and the organiser shared a responsibility of intentionally creating conditions for the connection to happen more easily, more effortlessly?
What if this approach benefitted not only the socially awkward overthinkers like me, but everyone?
Kay Sargent, an interior designer and author of Designing Neuroinclusive Workplaces: Advancing Sensory Processing and Cognitive Well-Being in the Built Environment, says that “When we design for the extreme, we benefit the mean—and we can create spaces that enable us all to thrive.”
I love this sentiment. While she speaks of designing the space from the perspective of an interior designer/architect who takes into account the varying needs of neurodivergent folks, I think that this principle can be used in more contexts, including creating an (online) space which makes making connections effortless.
Before I make this segway - let me first quickly share an example from a physical space; it might be easier to sense where I’m heading with this essay.
Last year, my dad broke a leg. I was helping him around and brought him to the hospital for monthly check ups - and boy was it a journey. The orthopaedist room was in one wing, the X-ray room in another, within a 10-minute walking distance for a fully mobile person, much further away for a person using crutches, only to repeat this route back to the orthopaedist to read the X-ray.
There was one free wheelchair on the entire floor to assist the journey between these rooms, hidden somewhere at the end of one of the corridors - god bless the kind nurse who suggested I look for it, because I wouldn’t know about it otherwise.
This experience truly made me wonder whether this space was created for the able-bodied young caretakers or folks with mobility issues (it was an orthopaedic wing, may I remind you).
Skillfully segwaying to my social anxiety and intentionally creating spaces for connection - what if we, as event organisers, online educators, coaches and service providers, used the same principle that many architects and UX designers noticed years ago - when you design for the extreme, for folks with acute needs, everybody benefits.
What if - when you design your next course, team event or membership, in which you want to amplify the need for connection, instead of hoping folks will find their way to connect, you design it intentionally, keeping in mind a person who finds it hard to comfortably show up in a new group?
Just asking yourself this question opens you up to a different point of view and shifts your perspective.
As a self-identified socially awkward person, I love it, when organisers give me options, treating events like a buffet, where I can dip in and out, following the alles kann, nichts muss approach as the famous German saying goes.1
That’s why a lot of professional team-building activities suck. You’re either forced to play some game you don’t want to play, or someone from higher-ups heard Brene Brown speaking about vulnerability once, and now they want you to share too much too quickly of the ins and outs of your inner life.
Listen, sweetheart, I don’t know you well enough to tell you this much about myself, you haven’t earned my trust yet (and yes, for the astrology enthusiast reading it - I have heavy Scorpio placements, I love to go deep but not with just anyone 🙃).
To finish off this article, I want to leave you with an example of a well-designed space for connection, in a professional context - during a team offsite of one of my employers. It’s a fully remote company, and all employees meet in person twice a year for the off-sites.
What’s important is that this part of the agenda was completely optional - again, not forcing anyone to connect if they don’t want to. For those who wanted to connect, the coworking space was divided into a few sub-spaces, where we could:
join a small book club, discussing the books we’re reading (if you know me, it’s not a surprise, that’s the one I joined)
board games station for more low-lift collaboration, you connect by following a game strategy, without the need to share personal details
puzzles and arts & crafts station → not much talking involved, but you’re physically present close to other people (a very undervalued form of connection if you ask me!)
one of the conversation card games, like We’re not really strangers - I assume it was adapted for a work context for deeper connection on a more emotional level
Do you see how many different options were available to us to choose from, depending on what level of intimacy/connection we were open to on that day?
That’s again where the designing for the ‘extreme’ (I don’t like this word, need a new one, share in comments better suggestions!) again proves helpful for everyone. Even the most Leo to ever Leo, the life of a party has a day where all they want to do if they don’t want to sit alone in their room is just do puzzles in peace, comforted by the presence of another human nearby, without the need to carry on a conversation, entertain or perform.
I hope this example got your imagination’s wheels spinning. Do you know how you will apply it for your next offer, if you want to build it intentionally around connection? In-person spaces give us more options, but the online world also gives us more and more possibilities.
PS. I recently published a free workshop, called experience audit - an approach to intentionally design your next group offer so your participants feel seen, understood and receive the experience they came for (and come back again!)
You can find more about it here. It pairs well with this article.
(can be roughly translated as: “You can do everything, but you don’t have to do anything.”)