One Deep Conversation a Day

Today I hit my limit. And I didn’t see it coming until I was already past it.

I’d hoped that maybe, with the right people — people I feel safe with — I could stretch a little further. I’d managed whole days of college before without needing to isolate. I thought maybe I was ready for three hours of straight socializing.

And in a way, I was. I showed up. I connected. I genuinely enjoyed it. The level of honesty, the openness — it filled my cup.
But only so much of it fits in that cup before it starts overflowing into exhaustion. And today, it overflowed.

I came home, laid down, and just… stopped. Two hours disappeared. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. It was like a full-system shutdown — and not because anything went wrong, but because I’d gone beyond what was right for me.

I’m grieving something, I think. The idea that I could be more social, more easygoing, more unfazed by connection. But what I’m finding is that one deep conversation a day? That’s more than enough. That fills me. And I’d rather pour my energy into someone who can meet me there — not just people whose faces I find myself holding up.

I also noticed something about how I speak lately. When someone asks me a question, I answer more fully now. That’s new. Before, I’d offer a word or two and deflect. Now I give detail — but I still jump to asking about them straight after. Maybe I still don’t believe I’m worth sitting with. But I am getting better. This is progress, not perfection.

Today taught me something. Maybe two hours is my social sweet spot. Not three. Not a full afternoon. Just enough to connect deeply, and then gently come home to myself.

That’s not weakness. That’s wisdom.

And next time, I’ll remember:
Pace is kindness.
One deep conversation a day is a life well lived.