My friend Kyle — the same guy who froze at his sister’s wedding when a stranger said “hey” — once told me something that stuck. He said, “I know I’m supposed to be more enthusiastic when I talk to people. But every time I try, I feel like I’m performing.” That tension — wanting to bring energy to conversations without feeling like a fraud — is something I’ve wrestled with for years. And I think most people who’ve ever been called “quiet” know exactly what Kyle meant.
The short answer: genuine conversational energy doesn’t come from being louder or more animated. It comes from being more interested. When you actually care about what someone’s saying — or at least decide to care for the next three minutes — your voice, your face, your body language all shift without you having to force anything. The energy follows the attention.
But that’s the clean version. The messy version involves a lot of awkward overcorrections, a few cringeworthy moments at networking events, and one time I scared a barista by being way too excited about oat milk. Let me walk you through what I’ve actually learned.
Why Most “Be More Energetic” Advice Falls Flat
I spent my early twenties reading self-help books that told me to “bring more energy” to social situations. So I did. I’d walk into a room, amp myself up, smile wider, talk faster, laugh louder. And people could tell. Not in a good way.
There’s a guy named Dave I used to work with in sales. Dave was the kind of person who’d greet every client like they were a long-lost friend. Big handshake, booming voice, the whole routine. Clients would smile back, but I noticed something: they’d lean away slightly. Their responses got shorter, not longer. Dave’s energy wasn’t creating connection — it was creating pressure.
I was doing the same thing, just a quieter version of it. Forcing enthusiasm I didn’t feel. And people can smell that. A 2026 study published in the journal Emotion by researchers at Yale found that people are remarkably accurate at detecting inauthentic emotional displays — often within seconds. The researchers called it “affective inauthenticity detection,” which is a fancy way of saying: humans have excellent BS detectors.
So the first thing I had to unlearn was that conversational energy means performing excitement. It doesn’t.
The Difference Between Energy and Volume
This distinction took me embarrassingly long to figure out. Energy in a conversation isn’t about how loud you are or how many exclamation points your voice contains. It’s about presence. Are you actually here, in this conversation, right now? Or are you half-thinking about your grocery list?
I’ll give you a specific example. About three years ago, I was at a blood donor session — you give blood, then sit in a waiting area for ten minutes with tea and a biscuit to make sure you don’t pass out. A guy sat next to me and started talking about competitive swimming. His stroke technique, his medals, his training schedule. None of it was relatable to me. I don’t swim. I barely float.
But here’s what was interesting: he had zero energy in how he spoke. Monotone. Eyes on the floor. Just reciting facts about himself. The content could’ve been fascinating to the right person, but the delivery had no life in it. No curiosity about whether I cared. No pauses to let me respond. He wasn’t having a conversation — he was giving a monologue with a captive audience.
Contrast that with my friend Sarah, who once spent fifteen minutes telling me about her new filing system at work. Filing. Systems. But she was genuinely delighted by it, kept asking me how I organized things, laughed at herself for being excited about folders. I walked away from that conversation feeling good. That’s energy. Not the topic — the engagement.
How to Bring Energy to Conversations by Getting Curious First
Okay, so if faking enthusiasm doesn’t work, and energy isn’t about volume, what do you actually do? Here’s what shifted things for me: I stopped trying to generate energy and started trying to find it.
Every person you talk to knows something you don’t. Has been somewhere you haven’t. Has an opinion that would surprise you if you dug deep enough. The trick is to go looking for that thing. Psychologist Todd Kashdan, who studies curiosity at George Mason University, has found that curious people are consistently rated as more engaging and attractive by conversation partners — not because they’re performing, but because genuine interest changes how you listen and respond.
Here’s what that looks like in practice:
- Before a conversation: Decide you’re going to find one thing this person knows that you don’t. Just one. That’s your only goal.
- During the conversation: When they say something — anything — ask yourself, “What’s the story behind that?” Then ask them.
- When you feel bored: That’s usually a signal you’re listening to respond, not listening to understand. Shift your attention to what they’re actually saying, not what you’ll say next.
I used to think this was a hack. Now I think it’s just how good conversations work. The energy shows up when the curiosity is real.
The open-ended question trick that actually works
One specific technique I picked up — and I write about this in How to Talk to Anyone About Anything — is replacing dead-end questions with ones that invite a real answer. “How are you?” gets “Good.” Every time. But “What was the highlight of your week?” gets something you can actually work with.
Someone once answered that question by telling me they got a free panini at their regular café because the staff knew them. That led to a twenty-minute conversation about neighborhood spots, regulars-only perks, and whether loyalty to a coffee shop counts as a personality trait. All from one question.
The energy didn’t come from me being enthusiastic. It came from the question creating space for something real.
The Enthusiasm Dial — Not a Switch
Here’s where I changed my mind about something. I used to think you either had conversational energy or you didn’t. On or off. But it’s more like a dial. And the setting depends on context.
Talking to your best friend about a movie you both loved? Crank it up. Chatting with a colleague in the elevator on Monday morning? Maybe a three out of ten is right. Sitting with someone who just told you they’re going through a hard time? Energy means being fully present and quiet, not animated.
I got this wrong for a long time. I’d bring the same level of forced brightness to every interaction, and it was exhausting — for me and for everyone else. The most engaging people I know adjust. They read the room. They match and then slightly elevate the energy of whoever they’re talking to.
That “slightly” matters. If someone’s at a two and you come in at a nine, you’re not lifting them up — you’re making them feel like something’s wrong with their mood. But if you come in at a three or four, they feel met. And then you can both climb from there.
Mirroring without mimicking
This connects to something I’ve seen work dozens of times. When you share a discovery with someone — say you both love the same obscure band — there’s this moment where your energy levels sync up naturally. You’re not deciding to be enthusiastic. You just are, because the connection is real.
You can create smaller versions of that by paying attention to emotional cues in conversation and matching someone’s pace and tone before gradually introducing more warmth. It’s not manipulation. It’s just meeting people where they are instead of where you think they should be.
What to Do When You’re Just Not Feeling It
I’d be lying if I said I always feel like being engaging. Some days I’m tired. Some days I don’t want to talk to anyone. And I think pretending otherwise is how people burn out on socializing entirely.
So here’s my honest take: you don’t have to bring energy to every conversation. You’re allowed to have low-key interactions. You’re allowed to say, “I’m pretty wiped today, but I’m glad to see you.” That’s actually a form of energy — it’s honest, and honesty creates connection.
But when it matters — a first meeting, a date, a conversation with someone you want to know better — here are three things that help me show up even when I’m running on empty:
1. Move your body first. Tony Robbins reportedly jumps on a mini-trampoline before going on stage. I’m not suggesting that (okay, maybe I am), but even a brisk walk around the block or some stretching before a social event gets blood moving and shifts your mental state. I do this before networking events. It looks weird. It works.
2. Pretend you already know them. This was maybe the single biggest shift in my own social skills. When I worked in sales, I was stiff and formal with new clients. The moment I started treating them like someone I already liked — not performing friendliness, but genuinely adopting that mental frame — everything changed. My voice relaxed. My questions got better. I stopped trying to impress and started trying to connect. If you want to build social skills routines that stick, this mental shift is a good place to start.
3. Lower the stakes. When I used to go on dates from Tinder and Bumble, I’d put so much pressure on the outcome — is this person going to like me, is this going anywhere — that I’d show up tense and wooden. The dates where I told myself “I’m just going to enjoy talking to this person for an hour” were always better. Paradoxically, when you stop caring about the result, you become more present, and presence is what people actually experience as energy.
The Counterargument I Find Partially Convincing
I should be honest about something. There’s a school of thought that says “fake it till you make it” actually works for conversational energy. And — okay, that’s oversimplified, but there’s some truth in it. Albert Bandura’s self-efficacy research from 1977 showed that acting confident in a domain can build actual confidence over time through what he called “performance accomplishments.”
So am I saying never fake it? Not exactly. I’m saying there’s a difference between performing an emotion you don’t feel and practicing a behavior you haven’t mastered yet. If you decide to ask one more follow-up question than you normally would, that’s practice. If you plaster on a grin and pretend to be thrilled about someone’s vacation photos, that’s performance. The line between them is thinner than I’d like to admit.
What I’ve settled on — and I reserve the right to change my mind again — is this: practice the behaviors (asking better questions, making eye contact, leaning in) and let the feelings catch up. Don’t start with the feelings. Start with the actions.
A Small Thing You Can Try This Week
Pick one conversation tomorrow — just one — and go in with this single goal: find out something about the other person that surprises you. Don’t worry about being energetic or charismatic or any of that. Just be curious enough to dig past the surface.
Ask “what was the highlight of your week” instead of “how are you.” When they answer, ask a follow-up. When they answer that, ask another one. Three questions deep is usually where conversations get interesting. That’s where you stop performing and start actually talking.
If it feels awkward, good. That means you’re doing something different. And different is where the real stuff happens — not in the polished version of yourself you’ve been rehearsing, but in the slightly clumsy version that’s genuinely paying attention. You might even find, like I did standing in line at a spinning class years ago, that the person next to you was waiting for someone to go first. Most people are.
Frequently Asked Questions
Does this work if I’m naturally introverted?
Yes — and honestly, some of the most engaging conversationalists I know are introverts. Bringing energy to conversations isn’t about being extroverted. It’s about being present and curious. Introverts often listen better, which is half the battle right there.
How do I bring energy to conversations when I’m socially anxious?
Start small. Talk to the cashier, the person in line, someone you’ll never see again. The lower the stakes, the easier it is to practice. Over time, those small interactions build a kind of muscle memory that carries into bigger moments. I had social anxiety for years, and this slow-ramp approach was the only thing that worked for me.
What if the other person just isn’t giving me anything to work with?
That happens. A lot. Some people are having a bad day, are shy, or just don’t want to talk. You can try carrying the conversation for a bit — ask open-ended questions, share something about yourself — but if it’s still flat after a few minutes, it’s okay to wrap up. Not every interaction needs to be a breakthrough. If you need specific tactics, I wrote about recovering awkward conversations that covers this in more detail.
Isn’t “pretend you already know them” just another form of faking it?
Fair pushback. The difference is you’re not faking an emotion — you’re shifting your mental frame. When you talk to a friend, you’re relaxed, you ask real questions, you don’t overthink your words. Adopting that frame with a stranger isn’t dishonest. It’s just giving yourself permission to skip the stiff, guarded version of yourself.
How long does it take to get better at this?
Depends on where you’re starting and how often you practice. I noticed a real shift after about three weeks of deliberately trying open-ended questions and the “pretend they’re a friend” frame. But I still have off days. Everyone does. The goal isn’t perfection — it’s having more good conversations than awkward ones.
