I’ve stood in that awkward spot more times than I can count.

The one where you walk into a new room, new event, new city, or new situation, alone, and realise you’re entirely outside of whatever circle already exists.

Completely.

No familiar faces. No one is looking for you.

Just a sea of people already mid-conversation, clinking glasses, laughing at stories you weren’t there for. You pour a glass of white wine because it gives your hand something to do, and you pretend to admire the arton the wall, or the menu, or the ceiling, anything but the fact that you don’t know where to stand.

This particular memory is from many years ago, at a networking event.

I had just arrived, slightly shy, unsure of what I was even doing there. I hovered near a corner, watching the scene unfold, preparing myself for a long evening of small talk and social stamina.

And then she came up to me.

A woman I had never seen before. She smiled like we were old friends and greeted me with a warm friendly hug.

For a strange second, we both seemed to realise: “Wait… we don’t actually know each other.”

But that didn’t matter.

She had already made her decision.

She brought me into her group and introduced me to her people, her tribe.

And I, a moment earlier lost in the crowd, was suddenly part of something.

Because what she did was simple and radical, perhaps.

She saw me, and she took action. She pulled me into a new scene with a warmth that made everything shift.

It might have been a small act for her, but for me it was invaluable.

I’ll never forget it.

And I’ve copied it ever since.

Now, when I see someone standing alone, looking around with that “What now?” energy, I do what she did.

I wave like we know each other.

I introduce them to my people.

I ask them questions. I listen. I bring them in.

Not because it’s strategic.

Because it’s human.

Sometimes people ask me why I do this. And my friends sometimes give mea look of surprise.

And for all of you who know me: This is the reason.

It’s such a small act for me, but it can be absolutely invaluable for the person receiving it. That’s why I do it.

But also because I know.

I know what it feels like to stand there, glass in hand, hoping someone sees you.

And I’ll never forget the one who did.

As someone who’s lived in different countries and rebuilt a sense of community from scratch more than once, I know how fragile that early moment is.

When you’re new to a place, or even just new to a room, proximity isn’t enough.

You can be surrounded by people and still feel entirely invisible.

We like to think that connection just “happens” if we’re in the right place at the right time. But that’s rarely how it works.

Connection takes courage.

Sometimes it takes a stranger deciding it for you.

When people ask me, How do you build a tribe when you don’t have one?, this is the story I tell.

Not a grand plan or a five-step strategy.

Just a moment.

A warm welcome.

A brave act of inclusion.

And the decision to repeat it for someone else.

And here’s the truth: if we all did that, just a little more often, the world would feel a lot less lonely.

Let’s Wrap This Up

Whether you’re the one standing alone or the one already at the table, remember this.

Belonging starts with the simplest of gestures.

We don’t have to wait for someone else to build the tribe.

Sometimes, all it takes is a hello, a hug, or just making space in the circle.

Because connection isn’t always built.

Sometimes, it’s offered.

And when it is, don’t forget to pass it on.

And this, my friends, is my quest.

Lots of love,

Stina

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