Two years attending a writing meetup

I’ve formed a new habit lately: I attend a weekly in-person meetup. A countdown begins, and we write in silence. Some might be writing a novel. Others might be journaling. When the time’s up, we optionally start socializing.

Having been a regular attendee, I eventually became one of the organizers. It’s been an enriching experience—I’ve met wonderful people and, most importantly, learned more about myself.

How it began

From 2021 onwards, I started working 100% remotely. As someone who never had a social circle outside of work, I began missing the water cooler moments as the months passed.

To fill that void, I attended various in-person events in 2023 to continue pursuing solo hobbies but in the presence of others. Writing was one of them, and I soon discovered and became a regular at the meetup I’d come to organize.

Making friends

Decades ago, sociologists found that close friendships best form through “proximity; repeated, unplanned interactions; and a setting that encourages people to let their guard down and confide in each other.”

Unsurprisingly, most people attend the writing meetup to make friends, myself included. But making friends when you’ve graduated from school is like playing a game on hard mode. Natural meeting places have diminished in this digital age. The fact we’re in Sweden cranks up the difficulty even further—around strangers, we’re reserved and can come off as cold. We also keep our social circles separate.

But here’s where the meetup has its place: we meet in person weekly. While we indeed plan the meetups, new people show up every time. We work on different things, and there are no set topics for what you discuss afterward. If you attend, we don’t set expectations. It’s not an audition. You don’t need to socialize or be a good writer. Heck, you don’t have to write as long as you can stay silent until the countdown ends.

Challenges

Organizing meetups hasn’t always been easy, largely because of what I’ve now realized. I’m a so-called high empath.

In group settings, that means I’m keenly aware of the energies and emotions of each person and the room as a whole. If someone starts getting bored or uncomfortable, I quickly pick up on that. I experience discomfort if someone’s left out, whether because no one’s talking to them or the current conversation excludes them.

I also feel strongly responsible for ensuring everyone has a good time whenever I organize an outing. That’s why I’ve rarely done it, and on the occasions I do, I’m selective about who I include.

As you can imagine, organizing a meetup, particularly an open one, is exhausting. New people show up, often anxious. How can I calm them? What are their expectations? They don’t seem to be having fun. Can I help them?

Since it’s open, all kinds of people show up. Not everyone has the best social skills, and far from everyone are good conversationalists. You’ve also got the oddballs and those who flat-out make others uncomfortable. How will they affect the energies and emotions around them?

But as I’ve organized more, I’m learning to think more rationally. People can’t set too high expectations. It’s free to attend, after all. They can leave whenever. And anyone who wasn’t born yesterday knows that if you meet random people, you won’t immediately click with many of them. I just make sure to welcome attendees and set the correct expectations.

The reward

Overall, the meetup has been a great place to practice interpersonal skills. I’ve gained a good understanding of the types of people I get along with. With many of the attendees being expats, it feels like a journey back in time to my elementary school days—an international setting filled with classmates from dozens of countries and constant switching between languages.

It also turns out that the sociologists were right. Two years later, I’ve made some wonderful friends. We’ve bantered late into the evenings. We’ve gone on boat trips to the Stockholm archipelago. I’ve learned more about their respective cultures and received great book recommendations. Some even came to my place for karaoke—a first but far from likely the last.

Another first is that I don’t recall saying I feel proud of myself. A decade ago, I was a socially awkward person. But through years of personal development, I can see that I’ve significantly improved. I no longer feel like a fish out of water in social situations.