Finding My Place: Reflections After Scottish Summit

I came away from Scottish Summit with mixed feelings.

I enjoyed speaking. I enjoyed chatting with attendees, answering questions and hearing about their experiences. Across Friday evening and Saturday, I met some brilliant people, and those conversations are a big part of what made the weekend worthwhile.

But there were also moments when I felt uncomfortable, a little lonely and unsure where I fitted in.

I want to be honest about that, because I suspect I’m not the only person who has felt this way at a community event.

Being in the room and feeling part of it

I don’t speak at events frequently. Walking into a room where lots of people already know one another can be harder than standing up and delivering a session.

When I’m speaking, I have a topic, a purpose and a reason to be there. I know what I’m bringing to the conversation.

Walking into a speaker gathering feels different. People are catching up, sharing stories and picking up conversations that started at previous events. You’re trying to work out where to stand, who to approach and whether introducing yourself would mean interrupting.

There were moments when I felt on the outside, looking in. I wanted to join in, but I wasn’t always sure how.

From that position, it can feel a little like a clique. I’ve thought carefully about that word because it’s a heavy one. It can suggest deliberate exclusion, and that isn’t what I mean or what I can fairly assume about anyone’s intentions. It describes how the situation can feel when you haven’t yet found a way into it.

There is nothing wrong with established friendships. Of course people want to spend time with friends they might only see a few times a year. That’s human nature, and those relationships are a valuable part of community events.

Both things can be true: people can be enjoying their friendships, and someone nearby can be feeling quite alone.

The conversations that changed things

What really helped was chatting with two other guys who were in a similar position.

We got talking, and I felt more at ease. I could relax and enjoy the conversation without wondering how to find an opening. I came away feeling I’d made some new friends.

That changed the experience for me.

Those weren’t the only good conversations, either. Over Friday evening and Saturday, I met people I’m pleased to have had the chance to talk to. I don’t want the uncomfortable moments to overshadow that.

But the difference those two conversations made stayed with me. Once I had people to talk to, I felt more comfortable being there. It reminded me how much a simple connection can mean when you’ve been feeling out of place.

Speaking doesn’t automatically make you outgoing

Being willing to deliver a session doesn’t mean every part of an event comes easily.

Some people are comfortable approaching strangers, introducing themselves and talking about their work. There’s nothing wrong with that. Sharing what you do gives people a chance to get to know you.

Some of us find it harder.

I can talk about a subject I know and care about, but that doesn’t always translate into confidence in an unfamiliar social setting. Without the structure of a session, I can find myself overthinking how to join in.

Someone may look confident on stage and still appreciate a friendly introduction afterwards. Having “speaker” on a badge doesn’t tell you how comfortable that person feels in a room full of unfamiliar faces.

This isn’t on the organisers alone

I want to be clear that this isn’t a criticism of the Scottish Summit organisers.

Putting on an event means managing an enormous number of moving parts. Speakers, attendees, venues, schedules and last-minute changes all need attention. Organisers already have plenty to deal with. They cannot be expected to notice every social interaction or know how everyone in a room is feeling.

There’s also a lot of communication to navigate: email, Teams, multiple WhatsApp group chats and conversations happening elsewhere. There can be plenty of information going out while still being a lot for people to keep track of.

For someone newer to the speaker community, knowing the arrangements and feeling comfortable joining in are separate things. You can know where you’re supposed to be and when, while still feeling nervous about walking through the door.

Perhaps a little support for newer or less frequent speakers could help. An introduction before the event. A familiar face to meet on arrival. An informal welcome at the start of a speaker gathering, so you have someone to say hello to.

That doesn’t all need to come from the organising team. Those of us attending and speaking can help make it happen.

Making it easier to stay

Because Scottish Summit was in Edinburgh, I had an easy way out. I could duck out early and head home—or find a pub or whisky bar.

For someone who has travelled to another city, or another country, leaving early might mean going back to a hotel room alone. If they’re already feeling disconnected, that could be a lonely end to the day.

Nobody should feel obliged to stay at a social event. Sometimes people need quiet time, and that’s fine. But I’d like us to make it easier for someone to stay when they want company and simply haven’t found their way into a conversation.

An invitation to sit with a group, someone remembering your name, or a quick “we’re heading over here, would you like to join us?” can make that decision easier.

Noticing who’s on the sidelines

My own experience made me more aware of people standing on the edges of conversations. I noticed quite a few on Saturday too—people hanging back or seeming unsure where to go.

I couldn’t know how they were feeling, but I recognised the position they were in.

Some of them may have wanted to be on their own. Events can be busy and tiring. We shouldn’t assume that everyone standing alone is lonely or needs someone to step in.

A friendly introduction gives them a choice.

“Would you like to join us?” leaves room for both a welcome and a comfortable “no thanks”. We can offer company without putting pressure on someone to accept it.

I think this is something all of us who speak at events should keep in mind, myself included. Alongside delivering our sessions, we can help people feel part of the community around them.

When we’re with people we know, it’s easy to focus on those conversations and miss what’s happening nearby. I’m sure I’ve done it too.

If someone seems a little lost or is standing on the sidelines, say hello. Ask who they are, what brought them along or how their day has been. Find out a little about them. Introduce them to someone else, or make space for them in the conversation you’re already having.

It doesn’t have to be a grand gesture. Those small openings were exactly what helped me.

What I’m taking away

Thank you to everyone who attended my session, asked questions and took the time to chat over Friday evening and Saturday. Thank you to the organisers for the work involved in bringing the event together. And thank you to the two guys whose company helped me feel more comfortable and left me feeling I’d made new friends.

I came away with some uncomfortable feelings, but also with good memories and new connections. There’s room to acknowledge all of that.

At the next event, I want to remember how it felt before someone made space for me—and be more aware of who else might appreciate an invitation into the conversation.