The Reluctant Attendee: Why Big Gatherings Aren’t for Everyone
The Reluctant Attendee: Why Big Gatherings Aren’t for Everyone
For some, the idea of a family day at the office, a class reunion, or a sprawling family gathering sparks excitement—a chance to reconnect, laugh, and make memories. For others, like me, these events can feel like a chore, a test of endurance rather than enjoyment. It’s not about being antisocial; it’s about the overwhelming nature of large gatherings that leave me restless, bored, and yearning for escape.
Take office family days. I attended one, mostly to “show face,” as it’s hard to dodge the unspoken pressure when the boss is aiming for a 99% attendance record to flaunt their department’s unity. Picture 100 people milling about, engaging in small talk, eating uninspired catered food, and participating in telematches or “acara padang” that feel more like forced fun than genuine enjoyment. For me, these events lack the intimacy that fosters real connection. The food is often bland, the games tedious, and the atmosphere feels like a performance rather than a celebration.
Class reunions are no different. I can manage a small group of 10 to 20 old friends catching up over teh tarik at a mamak stall—casual, low-pressure, authentic. But anything larger, and I’m counting the minutes until I can leave. The same goes for family gatherings, a staple in Malay culture. While the food at these reunions often outshines the office buffet, the sheer scale—sometimes 50 or more relatives—can feel overwhelming. I don’t mind a wedding, though. There’s something structured yet festive about them, with clear roles and less expectation to mingle endlessly.
Since the COVID lockdown, my aversion to big gatherings has only intensified. The forced isolation made me value smaller, meaningful interactions over crowded, chaotic ones. It’s not that I don’t enjoy mixing; I thrive in groups of 30 to 50 where conversations feel personal, not performative. Large events, however, often feel like a checklist: show up, smile, eat, leave.
This isn’t about shunning connection but about recognizing what feels authentic. For every enthusiast of grand reunions, there’s someone like me, quietly craving the comfort of smaller circles. And that’s okay—different strokes for different folks. If you’re planning the next big gathering, maybe offer a quieter corner for those of us who’d rather sip teh tarik than join the telematch.