The power of human connection in a world that’s quickly losing that
A few weeks ago, I got an email I normally wouldn’t take the time to reply to.
I had just wrapped up a speaking event in New York, and the message was from the general manager of the hotel where I’d stayed, thanking me for my business and asking me about my experience.
When I first saw it, I assumed it was a standardized message everyone gets after they check out and went to delete it without reading it. But then, I stopped, my finger hovering over the little trash can icon.
If there was ever a time I should respond to an email like this, I thought, this is it.
Here’s the story. . . .
I wasn’t supposed to stay at this hotel. I was coming to NYC for a speaking event, which I do often, and I was originally booked somewhere else.
What you need to know about me is that I am very particular about where I stay for speaking events because of how it affects my energy. What’s most important is getting a good night’s sleep, of course, but I also want to stay at places that inspire and energize me. When I step out the door before my event, I want to feel at my very best, and everything from the hotel’s staff to its décor contributes to that feeling.
For some reason, the night before I was supposed to fly out for this event, I woke up in the middle of the night with a bad feeling. I had the sudden urge to check the reviews of the hotel where I was supposed to stay.
Lo and behold, I found several recent reports from unhappy customers: They said there's construction nearby that’s very loud, the staff are not very kind or welcoming, and then, the big one . . . bed bugs.
Even though you can never really know how accurate online reviews are, reading that still left me with an unsettled feeling. I wasn’t excited to stay there anymore, and I was worried about how it would affect my energy for my speaking event.
I laid there in the dark, considering my options. I could either 1) suck it up and stay at this hotel, or 2) try to find a different hotel that I was excited to stay at, even though I was flying out in just a few hours.
If the review hadn’t mentioned bed bugs, I might’ve chosen the first. But after reading that, I knew that Option 2 was the only way to go.
There are literally thousands of hotels in New York City, but I figured it wouldn't be an easy feat to find another room. My speaking event was happening during the U.S. Open finals, which meant nearly every hotel room was booked. The rates of the ones that did have openings were wildly expensive.
My thoughts immediately went to the hotel I’d stayed at the last time I was in New York. I had a great experience there and absolutely loved my stay, so I wanted to see if they had an opening. The only reason I hadn’t originally booked there again was the price: It was on the steeper side, and I was trying to find something more reasonable.
Still, it was worth a shot. Now that it was the night before, I thought that maybe they’d have a room available at a better price.
I went to the hotel’s booking site and, miraculously, they had a room, and the price wasn’t as high as I remembered it being. I booked it immediately, canceled my other room with relief, and went back to sleep.
It was completely worth it.
When I landed in New York, I immediately felt grateful and excited to go to this hotel (which is called The Chatwal, in case you’re curious). I showed up at the reception desk with a big smile on my face, feeling so happy that I’d made the switch. I felt inspired while I worked on creative projects and prepped for my event in the lobby; had a great workout in the gym; ate delicious meals from the hotel’s restaurant that fueled my body; and had a wonderful night of sleep. The front desk staff even helped me print some materials I needed.
I went to my event feeling 10 out of 10. I showed up with the best energy, which is the kind of energy I always want to have for my clients.
All of that is what made me pause before I deleted the email asking me about my stay. When I thought about my great experience and how I’d ended up staying at that hotel in the first place, I knew I needed to respond.
When I wrote back, I told the GM everything I just told you, even though I was pretty sure there was no chance he’d actually reply. To my surprise, just a few minutes later, he did.
He told me that my message made his day, that he was so happy I shared my experience, and that he hopes to welcome me back to the hotel one day in the future.
That’s not where this story ends, though.
It just so happened that I was going back to New York the following week. I had booked a different hotel for that trip, too, but I when I thought about how much I’d loved my stays at The Chatwal—and this email exchange with the GM—I knew I wanted to stay there again.
This time around, I had a little bit of a tricky travel situation: My speaking event was later in the day, and I was hoping my hotel could give me a late checkout—like, really late. Later than the norm. A lot of hotels can't accommodate that, understandably, but knowing what I knew about this hotel and the GM, I decided to take a chance.
Once again, I booked a room and canceled my other reservation. Then, I decided to email the GM to let him know that I was staying there again and ask him about the possibility of a very late checkout.
Not only did he grant it, but he also told me that he wanted to make the visit as special as he could. In my initial message, I’d mentioned I’d be staying there with my sister during the week of her birthday. She lives in New York, and I invited her to stay with me for a little birthday treat.
I was blown away by every part of our stay. When we checked in, we were told we’d been upgraded to a two-bedroom suite. As we waited for our room to be ready, they treated us to a coffee in the lobby. Everyone at the hotel knew our names. It was so, so special.
My point in sharing this with you is not to brag about how awesome our hotel stay was. It’s to focus on what happened as a result of one email exchange.
Relationship expert John Gottman says that in our relationships, we often make bids for connection: little moments when we reach out to other people, maybe for a particular reason, but also just because we’re social creatures. Even though I didn’t see it this way at first, I came to understand the GM’s email thanking me for my stay as a bid for connection. Yes, I'm sure he sends that email to every guest who stays at his hotel, and, yes, it may even be automated. I'm sure most guests do not respond, and yet, he still thinks it’s important to reach out. Because I had such an outstanding experience, I reached back.
Then, when I decided to respond and tell him about my experience, he decided to respond and tell me how much that means to him. Next thing you know, we're forming a connection—a kind of relationship, even.
(Side note: The next time I stayed at that hotel, I asked to see him, but he’d just left for a meeting. I followed up with another email (and told him how nice our stay was), and now, we stay in touch. I am determined to meet him face-to-face and give him a hug!)
I think these little connections, these little relationships with people we interact with by chance, are something we're losing in the world today. Looking at life from behind a screen can feel so isolating. It can feel like we're losing that human touch.
This experience reminds me that there’s always a human on the other side of an email. And sometimes, all it takes to set a whole new relationship in motion is the decision to respond.
I want to be better about keeping my eyes open for these bids for connection, like replying to emails I normally wouldn't and giving feedback to people in customer service roles when they ask for it. I want to make sure I’m letting people know how much of a difference they make for me, even if they have no idea who I am. Who knows where it could lead?
What is this post bringing up for you? Do you have a story about a connection like this one? Or about a time when you took a leap and it turned into a friendship? I’d love to hear it! Hit “reply” and let me know.
Wishing you a great week, friends. Let’s do this!
Big hugs,
