Beyond First Impressions: The Essence of "Sonder"

Becoming part of a stranger's story

Over the last few months, I've been making a concerted effort to expand my circle of friends, explore the city in which I live and refine my social skills when it comes to meeting new people. To achieve this, I've participated in various structured and unstructured activities, almost exclusively with strangers. Through these experiences, I've had the privilege of connecting with some truly exceptional people.

During a recent outing, I shared dinner with a small group of fascinating women. Our conversation was centered around the topic of first impressions. We reached a consensus: We're all just amateur detectives when it comes to meeting new people. That woman with perfect hair? Either she really has her life together or she owns an incredible wig. The guy with mismatched socks? Either he's a daring fashionista or someone whose laundry situation has reached DEFCON 1.

These impressions form in microseconds as our brains process a multitude of signals: visual cues (attire, posture, facial expressions), auditory signals (vocal tone, pace, volume), and physical elements (handshake firmness, personal space). These rapid judgments can profoundly influence our relationships for years to come.

Behavioral science has revealed that first impressions serve an evolutionary purpose – they're a cognitive shorthand that helps us quickly distinguish friend from foe. At a primitive level, we look for open, empty hands extended from the body (perhaps in a wave) to quell our Cro-Magnon paranoia that we're facing an armed threat.

In modern times, this creates an interesting paradox: we form complex assessments from incomplete data. The crisp suit communicates competence, the warm smile suggests approachability, and the upright posture implies reliability and confidence – all excellent features for a dating profile picture. Unfortunately, these signals merely scratch the surface of a person's intricate story.

This is where the concept of "sonder" becomes transformative – that profound realization that each passing stranger harbors an inner world as rich and complicated as your own. The barista who prepared your coffee might be working through grief, celebrating a personal victory, or contemplating a career change. Their life extends far beyond your brief interaction.

So when we approach first impressions with this awareness, something remarkable happens. We become less judgmental and more curious. We recognize that surface-level cues offer minimal insight into someone's full humanity and a path to connection. By this I mean a stranger remains one for only as long as our judgments and stories keep us from further exploration.

So embrace this curiosity and you will, in-turn, present a vulnerability that others can detect – shrinking the chasm of our cognitive dissonance and personal biases through intentional discovery.

I admired how the women at dinner embodied this approach. Their interactions felt like jazz – unrehearsed, improvisational, raw, and authentic. My initial judgments were quieted by the reminder that behind every first impression lies a complete person, their goals, woes and dreams colliding with my own.