How I think, communicate, and let people come closer

A small self-reflection about how my mind thinks, how my heart feels, and why communication sometimes becomes more complicated than it should be.

Introduction

This text is not an essay about communication.
And it is not a guide for other people.

It is something more personal.
It is a small self-analysis.
Triggered by a conflict that made me pause and ask myself a few questions:

How do I actually think?
Why do I communicate the way I do?
And why do misunderstandings happen, even though my intention is simply to understand?

While reflecting on this, I realized that my mind and my heart often work at the same time — sometimes in harmony, sometimes slightly against each other.

Maybe this text helps people who come closer to me understand a little better how I work.
Or at least why I sometimes am the way I am.
So… welcome to the small engine room inside my mind.

My mind thinks. My heart feels. Unfortunately at the same time.

I am one of those people where analysis and emotion run in parallel.

When something happens, my mind immediately starts working:

• What happened?

• Why did it happen?

• Did I do something wrong?

• Did I misunderstand something?

• What could have been done differently?

While my mind tries to understand the situation logically, my heart does something completely different.

It simply feels.

Sometimes quite strongly.

This means that I often experience situations both analytically and emotionally at the same time.

Sometimes that helps.
Sometimes it creates a little chaos.

But that is simply how my mind works.

Relationships work like rings for me

In my mind, relationships are not simply “friend” or “not friend”.

They are more like rings of trust — a bit like concentric circles.

On the outer rings are people I enjoy talking to or spending time with. These are acquaintances — and that word is not negative to me at all. It simply means that the level of trust is not yet deep enough to share everything.

Over time, people may move one ring closer.

But this does not follow a fixed pattern. It depends on how much we interact, what we talk about, and how open those conversations become.

Some people stay on the same level for a long time. Others move closer surprisingly quickly.

In the end, two things usually decide:

My mind tells me trust is possible.
And my intuition tells me it feels right.

The inner space is not a place someone simply reaches.

It is more like a room.

A room I invite people into.

And that invitation does not come from perfect words or a certain number of conversations, but from something much harder to measure:

Trust, understanding, and the feeling that someone is truly there.

Small talk is my social boss fight

Small talk is a social skill many people seem to handle effortlessly.

I often stand there thinking:

“What are we actually talking about?”
“Is this topic interesting enough?”
“Is this conversation meaningful?”
“Why does this feel slightly awkward?”

That sometimes leaves me unsure what to say, even though I am genuinely interested.

It is not a lack of interest.

It is simply that conversations without deeper meaning feel difficult for me to grasp.

Ironically, when someone gets closer to me, the opposite happens.

Then I can talk a lot.

I ask questions.
I discuss ideas.
I listen.
I try to help.
And sometimes I simply start talking without noticing.

The difference is simple:
Deep conversations feel much more natural to me than superficial ones.

Why I used to be very different

People who knew me years ago would probably say I used to be very different.

Less visible.
More reserved.
Someone who rarely talked about themselves.

My old self preferred the background.

Observing instead of being visible.
Helping instead of talking about myself.

Maybe it was protection.
Maybe habit.
Maybe insecurity.

Today I am more visible.

Not because I seek attention, but because I realized that honesty is sometimes easier than constantly hiding parts of yourself.

When I think about things, I really do

If something happens, I think about it.

And I mean really think about it.

My mind automatically tries to understand situations. Conversations replay in my head, conflicts are analyzed, and possible outcomes are considered.

While others might respond immediately, my brain starts sorting things first:

What exactly was said?
What was meant?
What would be a fair response?
What response would avoid hurting or excluding someone?
Is there a better way to react?

The best answer often comes to me hours later.

Unfortunately, by that time the conversation is usually long over.

My brain works thoroughly — just not always in real time.

Sometimes I wish conversations had a small replay button.

A small warning for people who come closer

If someone gets closer to me, there are a few things worth knowing.

I am very honest.

If something matters to me, I say it.
If someone matters to me, they will notice.

This honesty can sometimes feel overwhelming when I truly open up.

Sometimes I even use words like love.

Not because I use that word lightly, but because I experience feelings in many shades and variations.

For me, there are many forms of connection and affection.

At the same time, I also have fears of loss.

Because of that, it often takes time before an acquaintance becomes a real friend to me.

Not because I distrust people.

But because I am afraid of losing someone who has become important.

What truly matters to me

I like building things.

Tools.
Projects.
Communities.

Creating something that works, something that helps people, something that makes things a little easier — that gives me a lot of joy.

But in the end, those are still just things.

People matter more to me.

I have always seen myself a little bit as a bridge builder.

Someone who tries to connect people.
Someone who tries to bring ideas together.
Someone who looks at a problem and wonders if there might be a way to make things better — not just for one person, but for many.

Sometimes that means creating tools.
Sometimes it means offering solutions.
Sometimes it simply means listening and helping people understand each other.

I like bringing people together, inspiring them, helping them find new ideas, or building spaces where collaboration becomes easier.

Success on its own has never been the real goal.

Because success can feel strangely empty if it cannot be shared with people who truly matter.

For me, the most meaningful moments are not numbers, followers, or projects.

They are the moments when something I built helps someone else, connects people, or inspires them to create something of their own.

Those are the moments where it feels like the bridge actually worked.

Conclusion

I am not a person of surfaces.

My mind likes to analyze.
My heart feels strongly.
And I will probably never fully understand small talk.

The people who matter to me mean a lot.
I would walk through fire for them — even if it meant risking getting hurt myself.
Maybe that is also because I often feel less important than the people around me who matter to me.

I will always try to help.
Sometimes simply by listening.
Sometimes by trying to understand problems.

My small analytical “superpower” then starts searching for solutions.

And I can be quite stubborn about that.
Problems rarely let go of me.
Not at work.
And not in life.

And if one day you notice that a door to one of my inner rooms has opened, you will know:

That is not something ordinary.
It is an invitation.

💜 Valerie