The Day My First Impression Turned Into a Plot Twist I Didn’t See

There’s a special kind of awkwardness that happens when you enter a new space, not a physical space, but a social one.

New people.

New dynamics.

New chance to look like you don’t know how to exist.

That was me.

Silent. Awkward. Overthinking how to place my water bottle on the desk like a normal human.

It was my first week at a working space.

Everyone seemed to know everyone. People laughed loudly, walked confidently, discussed “campaign strategies” and “deliverables” like they were deciding the fate of the universe.

And then there was her.

The girl who walked in with a Netflix show in headphones with a chill vibe, breezy confidence, loud laugh that probably took only 3 seconds and zero effort. She talked to everyone. She knew everyone. She had a posh energy. The kind that makes you conscious of your simple dressing even.

I made eye contact once. She didn’t back.

Instant judgment loaded in my brain: Rude. Too busy. Too cool. Not my type.

Meanwhile, I sat there with my silent PC and even more silent personality.

I’m not introverted all the time. I’m selectively introverted; if someone matches my vibe, I will talk like I’ve known them for 17 lifetimes. But until then, I am a quiet observer.

She, on the other hand, seemed allergic to silence😂 .

Days passed. She kept talking. I kept shrinking into background wallpaper.

People gravitated towards her. I stayed in my corner, headphones in, head down, trying to look productive while mostly Googling “how to look productive.”

Then, health issues pulled me back into WFH mode. A break I didn’t ask for, but needed.

Two weeks later, I returned.

I walked in quietly, expecting no one to notice. Just another chair, another laptop, another forgettable existence.

But then “posh girl” turned around.

Her eyes widened. “Hey, you’re back! Are you okay now? We noticed you were gone for days.”

We noticed? Whose we?😶‍🌫️

Another person from the table smiled and added, “We thought maybe you left permanently.” Wait what?

And suddenly, people who barely acknowledged me before were pulling chairs, asking how I was, offering tea and snacks. The same girl I had classified as “too posh to care” sat beside me and whispered, “we always wanted to talk to you, but you looked so focused and serious. We didn’t want to disturb you.”

ME? Focused? Serious?

I was literally thinking the same work again.

That moment hit me like a slap of reality: While I thought they were too cool to talk to me… They thought I was too reserved to talk to.

We were both trying to be considerate. We were both overthinking. We were both wrong.

It changed how I look at first impressions now.

Sometimes, the person you label as rude is just shy.

Sometimes, the person who looks intimidating is waiting for someone to make the first move.

Sometimes, the people you assume are “too cool” are secretly hoping someone will choose them too.

Now, whenever I step into a new room, I remind myself:

First impressions are written by fear. Second impressions are written by truth.

And sometimes, all it takes is disappearing for a while to realize you were never invisible.

You were just… unread.