It all started with a quick “hello.”about a year ago when my next-door neighbour moved in. She was friendly and looked like someone I might like to get to know. But what with one thing and another over the last year we never managed more than a few pleasantries about the weather when we met at our front doors. However, the summer makes all of us more sociable I think and with spending more time outside, cutting back the trees in our front gardens we got to chatting and she invited me over for a coffee one afternoon recently.
So I duly rocked up and knocked on the door with my homemade lemon drizzle cake in hand, fully intending to only spend an hour there, if that - as I had so much to do. She invited me in and made a coffee and then somehow. . . . three hours later, we were still chatting - about everything.
Not just the trees in the front.
Not just the weather.
But life. Work. Family. Dreams.
The messy, complicated, glorious human stuff.
And when I finally wandered back inside, full of coffee and lemon drizzle cake, I felt lighter. Like someone had taken the tangled ball of yarn in my head and smoothed it out.
That’s what connection does.
Brené Brown says,
“Connection is why we’re here; it gives purpose and meaning to our lives.”
It sounds simple, but when you stop and think about it, it’s profound. Human beings are wired for connection. Even if, like me, you’re an introvert who needs regular alone time to recharge, the moments where we feel truly seen and heard are the ones that stick. They’re the ones that remind us that we belong to something bigger than our own four walls.
I think about that chat with my neighbour and realise it wasn’t just small talk. It was a reminder that someone nearby understands what I’m going through. That I don’t have to hold everything inside. That life feels a little easier when it’s shared.
For a long time, I prided myself on my independence. Running my own business, juggling family life, and now doing my MA on top of everything else, I often tell myself: I can handle it. I’ll just push through. And for a while, I can. I get the jobs done, tick the boxes, and collapse into bed with that fleeting satisfaction of being capable.
But the truth is, humans aren’t meant to do it all alone. Even the most introverted, self-reliant among us need other people. Connection doesn’t always have to be a crowd or a party – in fact, for people like me, that’s often the fastest route to feeling drained rather than filled up. Real connection is quieter than that. It’s a cup of tea and a proper chat with a friend who gets it. It’s a laugh in the sewing studio with someone wrestling a slippery fabric, sharing that moment of triumph when the seam finally behaves. It’s those little exchanges that remind me I’m part of something bigger, that I belong somewhere.
Finding your Tribe
There’s a phrase that gets thrown around on social media: “Your vibe attracts your tribe.” I used to roll my eyes at it. It felt a bit trite, a bit too Instagram-influencer for my liking. But over the years, I’ve realised there’s a grain of truth in it. When you show up as yourself – quirks, passions, introverted tendencies and all – the right people do seem to find their way into your orbit.
That has been my experience with The Cloth Cutter. What started as a business quietly sent out a signal to the world: I love sewing. I love sharing that love. Who else is out there like me? Slowly, my people arrived. Workshop students who got excited over a perfect dart. Online members who shared my joy over finding the right fabric. Fabric hoarders who didn’t need another metre of viscose but couldn’t resist a swishy summer print anyway. Without even realising it, I was finding my tribe.
And sometimes, connection turns up in places you don’t expect – like a neighbour at the garden fence – but only if you let yourself linger. If I’d rushed back to my to-do list that day, head down, blinkers on; I would have missed that three-hour conversation that left me feeling so grounded.
It’s not the size of tribe that counts
I’ve also realised that your tribe doesn’t have to be big. For introverts like me, it’s much more about quality than quantity. A handful of people who understand your world, who listen and cheer you on and sometimes just sit with you in silence, is worth more than a hundred casual acquaintances. When you find the ones who make you feel at home in your own skin, you’ve found your people.
It’s not just a warm fuzzy feeling, either – science backs it up. Human connection genuinely makes us healthier. It lowers stress, boosts our immune system, and even helps us live longer. It sparks creativity and helps us solve problems, which explains why a workshop full of people laughing, chatting, and sewing together can feel like the most energising day imaginable. Creativity bonds people in a way that words can’t always capture. I’ve seen total strangers walk into a sewing workshop and leave as friends, exchanging numbers and plotting their next projects together. There’s something about making things side by side – wrestling fabric, celebrating little wins, sharing the occasional mistake – that draws people closer without anyone forcing it.
Making space for the good stuff
The more I think about that impromptu garden-fence conversation, the more I realise how easy it is to let connection slip in our busy modern lives. We scroll instead of speaking. We text instead of talking. We post our polished highlights online and quietly hide the messy middle. But real connection – the kind that nourishes us – comes from conversations that wander and unravel and go a bit deeper than “I’m fine, thanks.”
And it doesn’t always have to be planned. Some of the best moments come from making a little space for connection. Answering the phone instead of letting it ring out. Saying yes to a neighbour’s invitation for a cuppa. Booking that workshop you’ve been thinking about for months because deep down you know a day of sewing with kindred spirits is just what your soul needs.
That three-hour chat was a gentle reminder that connection is the thread that holds everything together. It doesn’t have to be complicated, curated, or filtered. It just has to be real.
So maybe this week, try putting down your phone for a while. Let a conversation wander without checking the clock. Lean into the things that light you up and see who appears beside you, ready to share in that joy. You might just stumble upon your tribe – whether it’s over a garden fence, a sewing table, or a cup of tea in a sunlit kitchen.
Because Brené was right. Connection really is why we’re here.
Jules x