Learning to Let People Not Be “My People”

It’s taken me 36.75 years to realize that not everyone has to be my cup of tea. Which, if you know me, feels almost groundbreaking. I should start by saying: I’m a Pisces. I generally assume I’ll get along with most people, and honestly, I usually do.

I’ve never been someone with a huge group of best friends — I get along with many, but I’m close with a select few. Still, there are very few people in this world I genuinely struggle to have a conversation with.

And yet, last week at a holiday party, I met someone where… it just wasn’t landing. The small talk felt effortful. The energy was off. And of course, instead of just moving on with my life, I spent the next 48 hours replaying every interaction like I was studying game tape.

Was I awkward? Did I misread the whole thing? Why is this bothering me so much?

Somewhere around Sunday night, it finally clicked: it’s okay if I don’t connect with everyone. It doesn’t make them wrong. It doesn’t make me wrong. It just means we’re not each other’s people, and that's allowed.

But for someone who’s spent most of her life trying to be approachable, warm, and easy to talk to, that realization felt like unlearning a very old reflex — the belief that if the vibe is off, I must have caused it. When really, sometimes two humans just aren’t a fit. No drama, no deeper meaning, no character flaw to investigate.

Protecting my energy, I’m learning, means accepting that not everyone will get it (or me). And that maybe nothing has to be “wrong” for two people not to click. A reminder that not every interaction deserves a postmortem, and not every mismatch needs fixing.