Myths about introverts
Before I tell you about Krakow - three popular beliefs that don't match reality.
Myth 1: Introverts are shy. Shyness is social anxiety. Introversion is an energy preference. And - worth noting - it's not a binary. Most people sit somewhere on a continuum between pure introversion and pure extroversion. "Ambiverts" - people in the middle - may feel confused by such a clear split: "but I both like and don't like crowds, depending on the day." That's normal. I know introverts who are excellent public speakers, run great workshops, can walk into a room and "work" any group. Afterward they go to their hotel room and lie in the dark for an hour, because they need to recharge. Introversion isn't "I'm afraid of people." It's "people cost me energy - and that's fine, but I have to account for it."
Myth 2: Introverts don't like people. This one's actually funny, because many introverts like people a lot. Just one-on-one or in small groups, where deeper conversation is possible. Not in a multi-person kaleidoscope where every exchange lasts 90 seconds and ends with a card swap.
Myth 3: Introverts can't communicate. Hmm. Let me put it this way: I know introverts who speak to a camera with grace, coach with mastery, and are genuine experts at listening. And I know extroverted talkers who say a lot but rarely say anything. Introversion has nothing to do with the quality of your communication.
Krakow. Book Fair.
I stood against the wall for fifteen minutes. Phone in hand.
Scrolling Wikipedia. An article about freshwater aquarium fish.*
I don't have an aquarium.
Around me was a crowd of people from the industry. Many of them would probably have been happy to talk to me, and I to them. But for that to happen, someone had to take the step. Walk over. Start something. And I was completely incapable of that step - because it required tapping into a social energy I simply didn't have at that moment.
I felt like an actor in the wings who forgot their lines. I knew "how it's done." I couldn't make it happen.
And then something strange occurred.
Not far from me stood a woman. Also with a phone. Also against the wall. Our eyes met. And instead of neither of us saying anything - I said: "Sorry, but... are you also pretending to be busy with something important?"
She laughed.
And suddenly there were two of us. Then another person appeared. Then one more. Five minutes later there were five of us against that wall, talking about how we fake extroversion at events. Forty minutes, non-stop, no card exchange at the start - just conversation.
The mechanism: honesty as a connector
This is the takeaway I brought back from Krakow and have used many times since.
Honesty connects faster than perfect networking.
Why does honesty work so well? Because revealing something real about yourself triggers reciprocity - the other person finds it much easier to respond with honesty than to answer a carefully staged "what do you do?" Honesty also reduces tension: when someone is first to admit they're uncomfortable, others stop pretending they aren't. This isn't social magic - it's a basic social mechanism.
When I said "are you also pretending" - I wasn't being clever. I wasn't confident. I was just being honest. And that honesty worked like a signal: "I'm a real person, not a salesperson." And the other introverts - because of course they were mostly introverts - felt they could take off the costume.
Networking doesn't require extroversion. It requires authenticity.
That's a big difference. Because extroversion is (in a sense) innate - either you have that energy naturally, or you have to generate it through costly effort. Authenticity - that you can always choose. You can decide that in this conversation you'll be real. That you'll say what you think instead of what "fits." That you'll ask about something that genuinely interests you instead of "what are you up to these days."
And that authenticity attracts. Especially at events where everyone is playing a role.
Practical survival techniques
I learned. It took time. It works. A few things that actually help:
Give yourself time before. If you know you're walking into an event in an hour - don't drive straight from an intense day. Give yourself at least 20 minutes of silence in the car or a short walk. You arrive with a charged battery instead of an empty one.
One question that genuinely interests you. Instead of asking "what are you working on" - find one question you're actually curious about. "What's surprised you in the industry lately?" "What project has given you the most trouble recently?" Conversations with questions like that inside them go longer and go better.
Look for others against the wall. Seriously. There are a lot of us. And we're often the most interesting people in the room - we just have a different startup mode.
Give yourself permission to leave. You don't have to stay until the end. Decide in advance: I'll stay two hours. I'll leave when I feel the tank running empty. And don't explain yourself to anyone.
After the event - plan recovery. Not "I'll probably go to bed early." Plan: quiet evening, maybe a walk, maybe something solitary. An event is an energy debt - and it needs to be repaid.
Honesty as a weapon. If you're stuck against the wall - tell someone nearby. Authenticity is networking for introverts.
*The aquarium fish article was genuinely good. I learned that discus fish require very soft water. I'll never use this information. But I know it.
Two questions to close.
To introverts: what's your survival technique? What makes an event bearable - or even good?
To extroverts: what could you do to make an event comfortable for both sides? This isn't about toning down your energy - it's about awareness that the person standing to your right may need it differently. Maybe one question that leaves room for a real answer, instead of four questions in a row. Or a moment of silence before you move to the next topic.