There are certain phrases that don’t need much explanation and “awkward silence” is one of them.
The moment you read those two words, you probably knew exactly what I’m talking about.
Maybe it happened with the new mom you met on the playground. Or over dinner with your partner when the conversation unexpectedly stalled. Or during the drive home from practice with your kiddo.
No one says anything.
Everyone waits for someone else to fill the space.
Almost immediately, you mind gets super chatty…
Should I say something?
This is getting weird.
Come on…someone speak so I don’t have to!
It’s remarkable how quickly the body can respond to the absence of words, too. A tightening in the chest. A quicker heartbeat. The body senses the subtle pressure to rescue the moment.
And when someone finally speaks? Whew! Relief.
We move on as though silence itself had been the problem.
I think many of us spend our lives learning to become good at filling space.
We admire the people who can tell stories effortlessly. The ones who always seem to know exactly what to say. The people who can stand in front of a room, command attention, answer questions without hesitation, and never appear uncomfortable.
I have certainly admired those people.
In many ways, I tried to become one of them.
As a spokesperson for the Academy of Nutrition and Dietetics many years ago, I was taught how to communicate clearly in interviews, deliver memorable sound bites, and open and close with statements people would remember.
There wasn’t much room for pauses, for considering or simply thinking.
Three-minute television segments don’t reward silence. In fact, silence would have been a nightmare.
Long before that, though, I remember sitting in a therapist’s office in my late twenties, hoping to become less socially awkward.
Wouldn’t it be nice to always know what to say? To always know how to say it?
For years, I quietly assumed confidence looked like never running out of words.
I’m not sure I have a new goal of seeking out silence in conversations. But I am becoming much more curious about why it feels so uncomfortable.
And I’m beginning to question whether my instinct to fill every quiet moment has caused me to miss something I couldn’t hear while I was busy talking. ';)
