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Let’s talk about something we don’t say out loud enough—being “peopled out.”

You know the feeling. You’re surrounded by name badges, lanyards, coffee stations, and a never-ending sea of introductions. You’ve smiled, nodded, networked, and answered the “So what do you do?” question more times than you can count. And while you might genuinely love what you do, and even love the people you’re meeting, there comes a point where your brain quietly throws up a white flag.

That point? It’s called being “peopled out.”

Conferences, networking events, and work retreats often look like exciting opportunities on paper—and sometimes they are. But they also come with a hidden cost: emotional and social fatigue. When you’re constantly in “on” mode, switching from one conversation to another, managing your body language, remembering names, and trying to be both professional and personable, your nervous system takes a hit.

And for those of us who are introverted, neurodivergent, or just emotionally overloaded from life in general, it hits even harder.

Here’s where it gets tricky. Many of us work in people-centered roles—education, nonprofit, service industries, advocacy—and there’s an unspoken expectation that we’re always supposed to be “on.” We start to feel guilty for needing a moment alone. We question if we’re being anti-social, disengaged, or even ungrateful.

But let’s be clear: needing space doesn’t mean you don’t care. It means you’re human.

If you’ve ever snuck away to your car for five minutes of silence, found refuge in the nearest restroom just to breathe, or seriously contemplated climbing under the event table for a nap—you are not alone. And if you’ve ever felt your smile start to crack by the end of the day, but you keep pushing through anyway, I see you.

One of the best things you can do is schedule decompression time. Block out moments where you don’t have to engage with anyone. Even ten minutes in a quiet corner can help. And if you need to skip a session? That’s okay. The world won’t end if you miss a panel or a breakout room. Know your limits. If you can only do four hours before you need a reset, honor that. And if you’re lucky enough to find someone who just gets it—a quiet nod, a knowing glance—it can make all the difference.

Being peopled out doesn’t mean you’re weak or not cut out for your role. It means you’ve poured out so much of yourself, there’s just not a drop left at the moment—and that’s okay.

So, the next time you leave an event emotionally tapped out, instead of beating yourself up, try this: thank yourself for showing up. For being present. For giving your energy to others. And then, go find your quiet.

You’ve earned it.

Let’s normalize the need for space—even in spaces meant to connect us.