Football, Laughter, and Finding My Tone

I think I’m slowly learning how to be social again.

Tonight at football, I noticed something different. I felt secure. Not hyper-aware, not playing it cool — just… at ease. I dropped some jokes into conversations, laughed honestly, and didn’t overthink every word. There was a moment when someone asked, “How was work today, mate?” and I replied with something short and flat. I realised later I could’ve just said, “Honestly, I had the laziest day ever — college is finished, so I’ve just been mooching.” That would’ve been true, and even kind of funny. But I was caught off guard. I’m still learning how to stay open when people show interest. I didn’t shut down — I just paused. That’s okay.

There’s a rhythm to connection that I’m starting to sense. Like social music. Sometimes I hit the beat. Sometimes I miss it. But I’m in the room now — not just watching from the side.

One moment made me laugh out loud, literally.

I bumped into one of the mums I know — we’ve had some good chats in the past. I’d messaged her on Friday to see if our sons could play football, but she didn’t reply. It felt a little awkward today when I saw her, but she came over warmly, and I could tell she was trying to ease that awkwardness too.

While talking about school, she said, “Ah, they’re breaking up soon, aren’t they?” — but in the most soul-drained, unenthusiastic voice imaginable. I just burst out laughing. Something about the way she said it — so unfiltered, so honest — cracked me up. I caught myself and said, “Sorry if I misread that, but you didn’t sound too thrilled about it.” We both laughed. It was real.

Later, I reflected on something else: maybe I didn’t share enough. I’ve been so cautious lately about oversharing that I think I might’ve held back too much. But honestly? I didn’t feel like I was forcing anything. I felt fine. Steady. Maybe that’s the point — I’m learning not to evaluate every interaction like it’s a test. I’m allowed to just feel okay.

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Morning-after reflection:

Maybe I do have a more secure base than I give myself credit for.

I’ve been wondering if I’m projecting a bit onto some of these interactions. The mum I’ve struggled to read — maybe she’s just not great at texting or being on time. And I do enjoy our chats. I’ve shared a few personal things in the flow of conversation — stuff about parenting guilt and friendship struggles — and maybe that felt a little deep. But I didn’t force it. It wasn’t a random overshare. It just came up.

I guess I’m still learning where my edges are — when to go light, when to go deep, how to let a moment pass without needing it to mean something. Maybe it’s less about being “appropriate” and more about trusting myself — that if I stay grounded, the right tone usually finds me.

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Evening reflection:

Maybe I’ve been too hard on myself.

This is all still new — learning how to connect without losing myself, how to share without oversharing, how to just be with people. And the more I think about it, the more I realise: I’ve been doing better than I thought.

For a long time, I assumed there was something wrong with me — like I was too much or not enough. But maybe the truth is simpler. Maybe I just didn’t have the right environment, or the space to grow these skills. And now that I do… I am.

The connections I made at college were probably more secure than I gave them credit for. They weren’t always intimate, but they were kind. Steady. And if we land in the same group again next year, I know I’ll lean into them more — not from need, but from trust.

I still feel isolated at times. But maybe that’s just the space where my next chapter is unfolding. And maybe I already have a secure base — not perfect, but real — and that’s something to build on.

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