Sometimes, all we want in the world from another person is a nod — reassurance that we aren’t alone. Sometimes, we just want our thoughts received, acknowledged and echoed back to us like they make sense and, yes, it’s okay. Normal. You’re fine. I understand. For as much as communication is about conveying information, it’s about confirming what we already think. This might explain our impulse to latch onto, in first encounters, “ME too!!!” or “I know, right?!” like conversational lifeboats. It’s that initial connection we constantly seek, even if we’re only at shallow shores of acquaintance.

But if we move on into darker waters, our distance from solid ground grows alongside our own vulnerability. At the point where stranger turns into significant, trust becomes crucial with all the added self-exposure. It’s no longer a class or fave movie or play-day proximity that locks in a long friendship like it might have in grade school. At 20-ish years of age, we’ve accumulated exclusive rights to our most self-identifying thoughts — rights that we don’t relinquish indiscriminately. Our biggest dreams, family secrets, shameful mistakes and lowest moments are not always the flashy headlines we broadcast in large group settings. They mean more. And for that, it’s what gives us the chance to find those others that know it all, and love us all the more. Otherwise, what?…Most of us have felt it. Otherwise, we’re surrounded by crowds of people with whom we talk, talk, talk…but have not a single clue about who we are. This is loneliness at its most ironic. It’s loneliness at its worst.

Many of us felt this freshman year, when we first landed in a high-energy world of smiling people who were similar in the most important way: they were students at this school. Maybe that was enough, for a while. But there were many of us who soon found ourselves pretending and trying to remember what to say to sound included for the sake of being included. We began feeling that contrast between the individuality we all “know” we support and our instinctive fear of that moment of social isolation. (Why else do we keep so quiet in discussion sections?) So we kept up the cheer and toned down the challenge, because being effortlessly honest suddenly became risky. Talking about our past and ourselves wasn’t exactly going with the flow when conversations had to be neutral territory. And the result, from a bird’s-eye view, was a tangle of people each feeling alone for the same, unspoken, unseen reasons. It’s a strange social phenomenon when you think about it. But I’m sure it’s happening, always.

So what happens if we’re too open, maybe indiscriminately? Now this might be the crux of the everlasting “girl/guy-friends” question. Example scenario: she meets him and opens up. So does he. They laugh, they giggle, but it’s not all laughs and giggles: they talk. She does the same with other friends. He does not. And, starting from there, an imbalance can begin where one feels something in the relationship that the other does not. This isn’t a formula, but rather a series of events I’ve seen innumerable times. It persuades me that letting someone in can, well, really bring them in. It persuades me that we respect and gravitate to genuinely open hearts, even if we’re scared of opening our own. Finally, I’m convinced that who we’re close with is more of a choice than I previously thought.

In the kaleidoscopic scheme of people in my life, the ones who remain with me even if they’re gone are the ones with whom I get to the heart of things. We’re honest, and maybe totally awkward and maybe embarrassingly politically incorrect. We have a relationship big enough to allow space for silence. We aren’t afraid to stumble in our attempts to articulate crazy, ambiguous mental things. And only later do I realize the ridiculous vulnerability of it all. What if they rejected or mocked my most deep-seated beliefs? I guess it depends on how much that actually mattered…

I tend to believe that, in the bigger picture of things, most of us are going through very, very similar things. The specific words, dates, players, situation may be different. But the vocabulary of emotion stays the same. More often than not, we share something quite substantial with the person sitting next to us, whoever they are. Of course, though, we’d have to take a chance on ourselves — and them — to find out just how much.

Did you read something you recognize? Did you read something you reject? Whatever it is — quick! Email Nina! You can find her at ninamc “at” stanford “dot” edu.