The hardest part about having poor social skills is that you're usually the last person to realize it
I was at a coffee shop in Silver Lake last week when I watched someone tell a barista their entire medical history while ordering a latte. The barista smiled politely, but her eyes screamed for escape.
The customer had no idea.
That's the thing about poor social skills. The people who need to improve them most are often the last ones to notice. You can be kind, intelligent, well-meaning, and still make every conversation feel like pulling teeth for the other person.
I know because I've been that person. When I first moved to LA in my twenties, I was so desperate to connect that I talked too much, listened too little, and walked away from conversations wondering why nobody ever called me back.
It took years and some honest friends to figure out what I was doing wrong.
1) You share way too much, way too soon
There's a difference between being open and dumping your life story on someone who asked how your weekend was.
Oversharing happens when you're anxious or excited. You want to connect, so you offer up personal details hoping it'll create intimacy. But it usually does the opposite.
I once told someone I barely knew about my family drama within ten minutes of meeting them at a party. They looked uncomfortable. I kept going. By the time I finished, they'd found an excuse to leave.
The problem with oversharing is timing. Deep personal information requires trust, and trust takes time. When you skip that process, people feel overwhelmed or even unsafe.
A good rule: match the other person's disclosure level. If they're keeping it light, you keep it light. If they share something vulnerable, you can respond in kind. But let them set the pace.
2) Your eye contact is either intense or nonexistent
Eye contact is weirdly hard to get right.
Too little and you seem disinterested or shifty. Too much and you come across like you're studying them for a sketch later. Both extremes make people uncomfortable.
When I was younger, I avoided eye contact entirely because it felt too intimate. I'd look at shoulders, foreheads, anywhere but eyes. People thought I was bored or lying even when I was fully engaged.
Then I overcorrected. Started holding eye contact too long, thinking it showed confidence. It just made people nervous.
The sweet spot is somewhere around three to five seconds before looking away briefly, then returning. It signals attention without turning the conversation into a staring contest.
3) You interrupt constantly without noticing
Some people genuinely don't realize they're cutting others off mid-sentence.
They're excited. They have something to add. The thought will disappear if they don't say it right now. So they jump in, finish the other person's sentence, or redirect the conversation entirely.
This happens to me when I'm nervous or really interested in a topic. My brain moves faster than the conversation, and I start talking before the other person finishes. It's not malicious. But it's still rude.
Interrupting sends a message: what I have to say matters more than what you're saying. Even if that's not your intention, that's how it lands.
Try counting to two after someone stops talking before you respond. It feels awkward at first. But it gives them space to finish their thought and you time to actually hear what they said.
4) You completely miss social cues
Someone checks their phone repeatedly. They give short answers. They glance toward the door. Their body angles away from you.
These are signals. They're saying "I need to wrap this up" or "I'm not comfortable with this topic" without actually saying it.
If you regularly miss these cues, conversations drag on past their natural endpoint. People start avoiding you because interactions feel exhausting.
I used to plow through these signals entirely. Someone would clearly want to leave, and I'd keep talking, oblivious to their discomfort. Then I'd wonder why they seemed cold.
Learning to read nonverbal communication is like learning a second language. You have to pay attention to the subtext, not just the words. Watch for body language shifts, tone changes, energy drops. These tell you more than words ever will.
5) You dominate every conversation
If someone asks how you are and you talk for fifteen minutes straight without asking them anything, that's a problem.
Conversation requires balance. It's not a performance where one person holds the stage. It's an exchange. Back and forth. Give and take.
People who dominate conversations often don't realize they're doing it. They're just enthusiastic about their stories, their opinions, their experiences. But from the outside, it reads as self-centered.
I still catch myself doing this sometimes. I get on a roll about something I'm passionate about, and suddenly I've been talking for ten minutes and haven't asked the other person a single question.
A helpful check: after you finish a thought, ask a question. Actually ask. Not the fake kind where you pause half a second and keep going. A real question that hands the conversation back.
6) You can't read humor or take everything literally
Jokes are social lubricant. They signal playfulness, ease tension, build connection.
But if you constantly miss that someone's joking and respond with complete seriousness, it kills the vibe. Or worse, if you take obvious jokes as personal attacks, people start walking on eggshells around you.
The flip side is also true. If your sense of humor doesn't match the room, if you're sarcastic in a group that takes things literally, or if you tease in ways that land as mean, you'll alienate people without understanding why.
Humor is context-dependent. What works with your family might bomb with coworkers. What kills with your closest friends might seem cruel to acquaintances.
Watch for reactions. Are people laughing with you or going quiet? Are their eyes smiling or are they forcing politeness? These signals tell you if your humor is landing.
7) You explain everything in exhausting detail
Someone asks a simple question. You answer it in a fifteen-minute monologue that includes seven tangents, three backstories, and detailed context that nobody needed.
This usually comes from anxiety. You want to be clear. You want to be understood. So you add detail after detail, hoping more words will make you sound smarter or prevent misunderstandings.
But it has the opposite effect. People zone out. They start looking for exits. You lose them in the weeds of your explanation.
I do this when I'm nervous about being misunderstood. I'll give a simple answer and then immediately start clarifying and adding context until I've turned a thirty-second response into a five-minute lecture.
Most questions don't need that much information. Start with a brief answer. If they want more, they'll ask. Trust that people will tell you if they need clarification.
8) Your body language contradicts your words
You say you're interested in what someone's saying, but your arms are crossed, your body is angled away, and you're not nodding or giving any affirming signals.
Or you say you're relaxed, but your shoulders are up by your ears, your hands are fidgeting, and your face looks tense.
People believe body language over words every time. When there's a mismatch, it creates distrust. Something feels off, even if they can't articulate what.
This happened to me constantly when I was anxious in social situations. My words said "I'm fine, tell me more," but my body screamed discomfort. People picked up on the disconnect and conversations would fizzle.
Pay attention to what your body is doing. Uncross your arms. Turn toward people when they speak. Relax your face. These small adjustments make your verbal communication land better.
9) You avoid anything deeper than surface-level chat
Small talk is fine. Weather, weekend plans, safe topics. But if every conversation stays there forever, you never actually connect with anyone.
Some people are terrified of vulnerability, so they keep everything light and impersonal. They're great at pleasantries but terrible at real conversation. This makes it impossible to build genuine relationships.
The irony is that most people are desperate for deeper connection. They're tired of surface-level exchanges. But if you never take the risk of sharing something real or asking something meaningful, you stay stuck in acquaintance territory.
You don't need to trauma dump. But you do need to occasionally move past "how about this weather" into actual thoughts, feelings, experiences. That's where connection lives.
The bottom line
Social skills aren't fixed. You're not doomed if you recognize yourself in this list.
I recognized myself in almost all of these at various points in my life. Some I still struggle with when I'm tired or anxious. But awareness is everything.
Once you see the pattern, you can start to change it.
The hard part is that if your social skills are genuinely below average, you probably don't realize it. You're walking around wondering why people seem distant, why invitations dry up, why conversations feel stilted. But you're not connecting the dots back to your own behavior.
That's why feedback from trusted people is so valuable. Not criticism. Honest, kind feedback from someone who cares enough to tell you the truth.
When I was in my mid-twenties, a friend finally said "you don't really listen, you just wait for your turn to talk." It stung. But it was true. And it changed how I approached conversations from that point forward.
Social skills are learned. They're practiced. They improve with attention and effort. Nobody is born naturally great at reading rooms and navigating complex social dynamics. We all had to figure it out, usually through painful trial and error.
The good news is that even small adjustments make a huge difference. Ask more questions. Match disclosure levels. Read body language. Give people space to finish their thoughts.
These aren't complicated strategies. But they're powerful when you actually implement them.
And if you're thinking "I don't do any of these things," you might be right. Or you might be exactly the person who needs to hear this most.
Sometimes the only way to know is to pay closer attention to how people respond to you. Not what they say, but what they do. Do they lean in or pull back? Do they seek you out or avoid prolonged interaction? Do conversations flow or feel forced?
Those reactions will tell you everything you need to know about whether your social skills are serving you well or holding you back.
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