Ever notice how the first thing someone asks you often reveals what matters most to them? Some people go straight for “What do you do?” or “Where are you from?” Others want to know what you’re working on, or what you care about. It’s not random. It’s a window into how they see themselves—and how they’ll see you.
It took me a while to realize this, but the way people size you up almost always reflects the way they measure themselves. For some, it’s money. For others, it’s fame, or achievement, or kindness, or intellect. Whatever they value most in themselves, that’s what they’ll look for in you. And if you don’t measure up by their metric, you’ll always feel a little out of place, no matter how hard you try.
You see it everywhere, if you look. The uncle who always asks about your job title before anything else, as if your worth is printed on a business card. The neighbor who lights up when you mention a creative project, but tunes out at talk of promotions or pay raises. Or the person who remembers every small kindness, quietly keeping score in a currency of character rather than cash or credentials.
Some people measure by character. They notice kindness, honesty, how you treat the waiter or talk about your family. They’re proudest of the times they did the right thing, even when it was hard. If you want to impress them, show integrity, not status.
It’s easy to miss this at first. We’re so used to thinking everyone sees the world the way we do. But if you pay attention—really pay attention—you’ll start to notice the patterns. The questions people ask. The stories they tell. The things they brag about, or downplay, or avoid entirely.
When you get to know someone, try to figure out what they pin their self-worth on. What are they most proud of? What stings them the most when it’s criticized? What do they secretly wish everyone would notice about them?
This isn’t just a party trick. It’s the best way I know to understand compatibility. If someone’s metric matches yours, you’ll feel seen, understood, valued for the things that matter most to you. If not, you might always feel a little off-balance, like you’re speaking different languages.
I’ve learned to ask myself, quietly, when I meet someone new: What’s their metric? What’s mine? Are we measuring the same things, or are we playing different games entirely?
It’s not about judging people for what they value. We all have our own reasons, shaped by our histories, our wounds, our dreams. But knowing the metric—yours and theirs—can save you years of confusion. It can help you find the people who see you clearly, and let you stop chasing approval from those who never will.
In the end, we’re all just holding up mirrors to each other. The trick is to find the ones that reflect back the parts of ourselves we’re proudest of—and to be honest about the yardsticks we use, both for others and for ourselves.