Dear Penny: Always start the conversation
Dear Penny,
When I was 22 I did the usual Kiwi thing and headed over to Europe for an OE. It was either spend the money on a house or an OE, and you bet the OE was a way more appealing option. To this day I have no regrets about how I spent that money. I do, however, have one regret from that trip. Even writing about it today, over a decade later, it brings up feelings of guilt and a tinge of shame.
My OE started in London, jumping on a bus tour and heading straight to Paris for two nights. The Eiffel tower, the Louvre, a Moulin Rouge show, what more could you ask for. After that we headed down to Barcelona, stopping overnight in lower France on the way. Now as someone who has analysed people for as long as I can remember, I had a pretty good read on everyone by this point. There were the bold, loud and outspoken socialites who were there for the best time. The quieter, more reserved few who were there for the long haul (they were doing an 8 week tour!). And the eccentric people who seemed to fit in and around everyone else. Overall, the group balanced each other out pretty well.
One person, however, started to stick out to me. On our way through to Barcelona, the bus stopped at a roadside pull-in for lunch. The tour provided pre-made lunch that day so we all sat around some benches in a grassy area. I ended up sitting near an Australian guy, let’s call him Liam, and joined in on the group chat. My spidey senses started tingling. Liam had a sandwich but was struggling to eat it. He was also struggling with eye contact and couldn't really sit still. People were talking to him, asking him lots of questions and he was answering thse mostly okay, but he never followed up with questions for them. He kinda just answered the questions with a nervous laugh here and there and then petted off into silence. To me, he clearly seemed uncomfortable. What threw me though, was that despite this he did seem happy. Uncomfortable, but happy. Have you recognised this behaviour in someone before? Lack of eye contact, nervous laughs, struggling to eat, constant movement? You might not be able to put your finger on it, but something just feels… off?
Fast forward to the next evening when the group was out for dinner in Barcelona and I witnessed something very similar happening again. Liam seemed to be getting a bit of attention from the group by now and on the way in, they somewhat forced him to sit in the middle of the table. Nothing malicious, everyone liked him, it was more just over-the-top interest combined with a lack of awareness. Nonetheless, Liam sat down and the awkward routine started again. Moving food around his plate and not eating, nervous laugh after nervous laugh, lack of eye contact and constant moving. This time though, it seemed a little worse and I was starting to feel concerned about him.
Large social situations aren’t really my happy place and I usually experience a fair bit of anxiety in and around them myself. So for me, Liam's behaviour was fairly recognisable as someone who was pretty uncomfortable. From my experience, the emotional and physical toll following anxiety and discomfort like this can be quite extreme and it takes a while to recover. And to recover, you really need solitude and a quiet, safe space. In a situation like this though, when you’re constantly with 35 other people either on a bus, sharing dorm rooms, eating meals or doing tourism activities, it’s almost impossible to rest and recover. This is why I started to get concerned and question whether I should say something. If he’s this uncomfortable majority of the time and isn't getting time to himself, what will happen?
I chose to bite my tongue and keep my concerns to myself. Perhaps I was wrong? Perhaps I was miss-reading? Perhaps I was projecting? I didn’t want to start a potentially awkward and challenging conversation about someone's health whom I had only met 4 days earlier. I decided it wasn’t my place. Stay in my lane I told myself.
The next day Liam had a psychotic episode. He was found by local police on the street acting erratically. He had no idea who he was, he had no idea where he was and he had no ID, money or hotel access card on him. Fortunately, one of the people on our tour saw him speaking with police and went over to see what was going on. They managed to get him to the hospital and wrap support around him.
The moral of this story? If your spidey senses start tingling and you feel like something is off, speak up and check-in on them. If it’s nothing, perfect, that’s the best case scenario. If it is something and you catch it, perfect, support them within your limits and seek outside help if it’s out of your depth. It might be uncomfortable reaching out, but speaking from experience, if you don’t say anything and something serious happens, the guilt of doing nothing will be far more uncomfortable.
Have you noticed someone struggling before and spoken up? Have you reached out to someone even though it made you feel nervous and uncomfortable? How brave do you think you could be if you did notice someone was off?
Since this experience, I make an effort to speak up and check-in on those when I sense something is off. At work. At home. With friends. And with family. Sometimes I’m wrong, sometimes I’m right. Sometimes there's surface level issues going on and they just need to vent. Sometimes there's something a bit more at play and they need someone to listen and support. Interestingly, on none of these occasions have I regretted my decision or felt uneasy when speaking up. There's almost a quiet pride in being brave enough to reach out when most people won’t. I know how valued and important I feel when people check-in in on me, so I enjoy being able to offer this to others. To let them know that I see them and that I care about what happens to them.
Over the years, living by this simple rule of always starting the conversation has changed a lot for me. It has strengthened my relationships and deepened the trust I have with the people around me. It has helped me understand others in ways I might never have if I had stayed silent, and it has brought an unexpected sense of joy and fulfilment. I have also come to see the power of conversation as prevention. If someone had checked in on Liam, they might have caught what was happening before it escalated. That is the power of prevention, creating systems and habits that catch people before they reach the ambulance at the bottom of the cliff. Imagine how different Liam’s experience could have been, how different mine could have been, and how different it might have been for everyone else on the tour.
In the workplace, we see this play out all the time. Someone seems quieter, more distracted or a little off their usual rhythm and too often, we convince ourselves it’s not our place to ask. The truth is, starting that conversation could change everything.
Whether we’re leaders, colleagues, friends, family members or acquaintances, take the time to look out for those around you. Speak up if something feels off. Whether the answer is yes or no, you’ll thank yourself later.
Until next time, be courageous and start the conversations that matter.