Have you ever noticed how hard it is to build real, honest connections as an adult, especially in a professional setting? Most connections feel superficial. We keep our guards up, have small talk about work, and leave without much that's memorable to hold on to or without having had a meaningful connection.
But I discovered firsthand 10 years ago that the complete opposite is also possible.
Rich and deep conversations don't need to be restricted to our personal lives; they can most definitely come from our professional ones.
In 2016, I attended an incredible event. For a full day, I laughed beside strangers, cried during keynotes, and watched a shirtless man sprint through the auditorium to a standing ovation. I left with the unmistakable feeling that something extraordinary had just happened.
But sadly, the event itself hadn’t given me much of a chance to actually connect with the people around me.
I knew I had to find a way.
I reached out to the organizer and asked for permission to use his event’s Facebook page to invite others to meet up. He graciously accepted, simply adding, “as long as you call it unofficial.” Done.
I announced it, people showed up, and we had an outstanding time together.
But then the question came: “How do we keep on meeting while making this productive?” As in, what happens after the coffee date? That’s when someone suggested a mastermind. “Sure, let’s do it,” I said.
I had no idea what a mastermind was. Late that night, I went home to Google what on earth a mastermind actually was. I learned that a mastermind is a group of people who meet regularly to help each other. Easy enough.
I sent recurring calendar invites and started running the meetings.
Little did I know that this mastermind would change my life. It opened up the door to some of the rawest conversations of my professional career. We became a group that shared everything, the naked truth, about how your work was doing, how we were doing. And we rallied hard together to support each other and push forward. It has helped me be honest about my true goals and priorities and re-architect my life.
My experience in this group was so powerful, so rich that I ended up starting a company that runs masterminds, helping thousands of people experience what I had: the power of true peers who completely have your back and with whom you can share anything.
This is what I've been doing for the past 10 years of my life.
I love my work. I witness deep humanity, tear-jerking moments of people sharing, bonding, mutually supporting, and getting transformed together.
And after witnessing so many different groups side-by-side, I couldn’t help but get obsessed with understanding this: What made some groups better than others? As in, bonding faster and deeper? Or lasting longer? Or more helpful?
Over time, I realized I wasn’t actually studying masterminds. I was studying human connection.
Through all those groups, I realized these relationships weren’t forming by accident.
They were guided by two major forces: depth of connection (how deeply the connection grows among participants) and depth of progress (how much their conversations would help them move forward).
While progress is crucial, connection is where the magic begins.
For this article, let me just explore the big picture of what I've learned about the connection side.
Here is what a decade in those rooms revealed about how humans build true bonds:
Trust doesn’t take years — it takes design
Conversations of real depth require trust, but trust does not necessarily take years to build. If you have ever had a stranger share something really honest with you out of nowhere, you know what I mean. Trust requires the right setting: safety, permission, invitation, and someone who models going deep first. All these elements can be intentionally designed.
The most powerful bonds happen when people get real
When we find a way to move beyond small talk and dive into deeper topics, people naturally lean into one another. Sharing hidden aspirations, admitting uncertainties, and revealing stories that shaped your life all draw people closer.
Our humanity is our commonality, and it is powerfully magnetic.
People are starved for real connection
People want to have deeper conversations, but superficial small talk remains our default because most people don't know a better alternative is possible. When you offer real depth to them, it is like introducing someone who has lived on junk food their whole life to a warm, home-cooked meal. At first, they might inspect it suspiciously. But once they taste it, there is no going back.
What this made possible
Understanding how people connect has been the greatest gift of my professional life.
It allowed me to design spaces where humans found other humans, where people stopped pretending that their lives were as polished as their LinkedIn feeds, and where seemingly impenetrable professionals would suddenly say, “I thought I was alone feeling this.”
When this happens, a wave of relief washes over the whole group. It is that instant where the real humans are given permission to show up. It always gives me goosebumps.
And that's only the start. Once humans have dared to shed their armor and show up more authentically, we can dive into what's truly meaningful.
Now, everywhere I look, I see incredible conversations waiting to happen. The stories, the trust, and the belonging are already there, just beneath the surface.
And I've realized that what I learned in masterminds doesn't belong only in masterminds.
Today, I bring these principles into events, helping organizers design experiences where attendees can bond more easily and more meaningfully.
Because I've learned that people do want to connect. But entering a conversation, moving beyond small talk, and finding your way to something meaningful is hard work, especially in a room full of strangers.
We shouldn't leave all of that work to attendees.
If connection matters, we can design for it.
We can create the conditions that make it easier for people to find one another, trust one another, and have the amazing conversations they came hoping to have.
That's the work I'm in love with now: designing the relational architecture that helps turn a room full of strangers into people who actually matter to one another.
