Why your best intentions might be getting in the way of real connection

Let’s flip something straight away.

Most of us have been taught that being relatable is how you build trust.
Share a story. Show you get it. Meet people where they are.

Sounds right, doesn’t it.

And often, it is.

But there is a quiet moment where that instinct can misfire.
Especially at work.
Especially when someone is vulnerable.
Especially if you lead people.

The belief we rarely question

Here is the belief most of us are operating from.

If I show I have been through something similar, they will feel less alone.

Fair enough. It is human. It is well intentioned. It comes from care.

But sometimes, that very move creates the opposite result.

Not because you did anything wrong.
Because of what it costs in the moment.

How this plays out for leaders and managers

A team member finally says it in a one to one.

“I’m feeling pretty overwhelmed. I’m struggling to keep on top of everything.”

You lean in. You want to help. You want to normalise it. So you reply quickly.

“I get it. I went through the same thing when I was in your role. What helped me was tightening my priorities and pushing through that phase.”

On the surface, it sounds supportive.

But something subtle shifts.

Your experience steps forward.
Theirs pauses.

They nod. They listen. They say thanks.
And the thing they were just starting to touch quietly retreats.

What they needed was room.
What they got was a solution shaped by someone else’s story.

The cost is not obvious.
But it is real.

The quiet cost we rarely notice

When moments like this happen, people rarely push back.

They do not say, “I wasn’t finished.”
They do not say, “That wasn’t what I needed.”

They adapt.

They tidy themselves up.
They shorten their truth.
They learn, very quickly, what kind of sharing is welcome.

Over time, leaders wonder why people stop bringing the real stuff.
Why conversations stay surface level.
Why trust feels thinner than it used to.

Nothing dramatic broke.

But something important never quite landed.

What is really happening underneath

When someone shares something hard, they are often not asking for advice yet.

They are asking for space.

Space to hear themselves say it.
Space to feel it land without being redirected.
Space to know they are not too much in that moment.

Neuroscience backs this up.

When a person feels genuinely listened to, without interruption or comparison, the brain releases oxytocin. That chemical supports trust, safety, and connection. Being heard quite literally feels rewarding in the body.

When the focus shifts too quickly, even kindly, the nervous system often reads it as:

“This moment is moving on.”

And the person moves with it, whether they were ready or not.

Why the urge to relate is so strong

Most people are not trying to centre themselves.

They are trying to help.

Silence can feel awkward.
Emotion can feel exposing.
Fixing feels useful.

So we reach for our story. Our lesson. Our experience.

But connection is not built through similarity alone.

It is built through staying.

The expectation flip

Here is the flip that matters.

Relating fast feels kind.
Listening longer feels safe.

One proves you have been there.
The other proves you can be trusted here.

The difference is not empathy.
It is timing.

What builds connection instead

This is not about becoming quiet or distant.
It is about keeping the focus where it belongs.

Simple shifts make a big difference.

“That sounds heavy. What part of this is weighing on you most right now?”

“I’m really glad you said that out loud. What support would help here?”

“It makes sense you feel this way given what you are carrying.”

These responses do not fix.
They hold.

And when people feel held, they keep talking.
They stay open.
They trust you with more of the truth.

When sharing your story does work

There are moments where sharing can build connection.

When someone explicitly asks.
When you have fully listened first.
When it is brief and hands the focus back.

The question to quietly ask yourself is simple.

Am I sharing to support their experience, or to ease my own discomfort?

The real takeaway

Most people are not bad listeners.

They are fast ones.

Fast to help.
Fast to relate.
Fast to move things along.

But connection does not come from matching stories.

It comes from staying long enough for someone to feel finished.

The hidden cost of being relatable is not that you care too much.

It is that you step out of the moment that needed you to stay.

And sometimes, the most powerful thing you can offer is not a story.

It is your presence.

And a simple, generous invitation.

“Tell me more.”