Confession: I’ve never been someone who was a natural in social settings.

On my first day of kindergarten, I distinctly remember my mom walking up to a classmate and asking, “Do you want to be friends with Sahil?” 5-year-old me’s embarrassment has never quite worn off (though the kid did end up being one of my closest childhood friends!).

As I got older, most of my close relationships came through “sticky” social settings. My term for settings where you’re in a fixed location with a general fixed group of people for an extended period. School, sports teams, college, workplaces, etc.

When you’re in these settings, it’s somewhat easy to build a relationship. Because you’re with people, who’ve generally self-selected into a group with shared values, in a structured context, for a long duration.

The problem: As you become an adult, the number of “sticky” social settings declines. If you’re going to build new relationships as an adult, you often have to do so in “smooth” settings (the opposite of sticky, where presence is more transient and fleeting).

As something of an introvert, I struggled in those settings. And as a result, I found it difficult to build new adult relationships. I often felt others weren’t responding to my social signals. In most cases, I just assumed they didn’t like me and moved on.

But it turns out I was actually falling victim to a damning collision of two psychological phenomena:

One outbound, one inbound.

The outbound was documented in a ​2003 study​ published in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology. Researchers conducted a series of experiments that placed two unacquainted participants in a one-on-one social interaction.

They were given a social framing for the interaction, such as discussing a potential future date, getting to know each other, or navigating a scenario where romantic interest could be conveyed.

After the interaction, each participant was asked to judge how much romantic interest they had conveyed and received in the conversation.

Interestingly, those who had noted a high fear of rejection consistently overestimated the obviousness of their signals. They believed they were conveying significant interest, while the receiver experienced little.

While this original study was related to romance, later research found the same bias in new friendships.

It’s called Signal Amplification Bias:

In simple terms, our fear of rejection in social situations tempers our ability to convey social signals, and blinds our ability to recognize that tempering effect.

The inbound was first introduced in a ​2018 study​ published in Psychological Science. Across multiple, diverse contexts, researchers found that people systematically underestimate their conversation partner’s liking for them. Third party observers accurately estimated how much each party liked the other, but participants themselves were blind to it.

The effect appeared in brief chats as well as multi-month relationship development.

Researchers believe it’s driven by our own self-critical internal monologue, paired with a natural egocentric bias that overemphasizes our own flaws.

They called it the Liking Gap.

We assume others like us less than they actually do.

The collision of these two scientific findings is painful. In effect, you send less than you think, and you hear less than they send.

Two people who like each other leave an interaction convinced the other one doesn’t. The relationship never grows because the seed never takes.

The solution is simple:

Like people out loud.

My friend Vanessa Van Edwards calls this the Loud Liker Theory in her wonderful new book, ​Conversation: How to Connect With Anyone & Make Every Interaction Count​.

This is something I’ve gotten much better about in my 30s and it has completely transformed my experience with adult friendships.

I’m extremely open (and vocal) about my affinity and admiration for others.

What does that look like in practice?

A few recent examples that come to mind:

• If I like someone’s clothes or outfit, I tell them. It doesn’t matter if they’re a stranger on the street or someone I just met. You know how good it makes you feel when someone does this to you, so just imagine the impact of creating that feeling in others.
• I frequently call someone on a whim instead of sending the text. I find that idle time in the car on the way to or from the gym is a great catalyst for short check-ins.
• If I admire something someone did, I send them a message to let them know. Big or small, it doesn’t matter.
• I send notes of kudos to people who are putting themselves in the arena and showing up. A note from someone who seems “ahead of you” can go a long way.

In the last month alone, those tiny actions have led to several new friendships. In fact, one “hey, I love your jacket!” to a complete stranger backstage before a speaking event led to a conversation that sparked a transformative story for my second book.

It’s an asymmetric approach to life.

In Vanessa’s words, “Being a loud liker costs you the occasional rejection and buys you nearly everything else.”

My mom was a loud liker on my behalf 30 years ago. But as an adult, nobody’s going to do that for you.

So, do it yourself.

Like people out loud.

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P.S. I highly recommend Vanessa’s ​new book​. It’s a great read for anyone looking to improve their social wealth!