Years ago, my husband was in the military and we moved when he was posted somewhere away from our family and friends. It was a pretty lonely time for me.

I didn’t have my usual people around me and I was spending a lot of time on my own. Podcasts became something I could put on while I was doing other things, but they were also company. They gave me people to listen to, things to think about and conversations I wasn’t necessarily having with the people around me at the time.

I’ve talked before about how much I learnt from podcasts during those years and how they eventually played a part in me starting my own business. But they gave me something else too. Connection.

Which is kind of weird when you think about it because the people I was listening to had absolutely no idea who I was.

I still have my podcast people

Fun fact about me as a podcast producer: for my own enjoyment, I actually prefer to watch podcasts rather than listen to them. Maybe because I listen to people talk for work A LOT and apparently adding a video makes my brain decide it’s now recreational. Who knows.

Some of the shows I keep coming back to are Armchair Expert, What Now? with Trevor Noah, Take Your Shoes Off and We’re Your Girls (rewatching old ones). They’re obviously different shows, but the reason I like them is pretty similar.

I see parts of myself in the people making them.

I like curious people. I love deep conversations, interesting topics and random facts that make me think. Humour and laughing are really important to me. I like good banter. I like hearing from experts and people with different perspectives who make me think about something in a way I hadn’t before.

Basically, I love that shit.

I’ve watched some episodes two or three times because I relate so much to the conversation, the way someone thinks or the subject they’re exploring. That’s what brings me back.

And I think there’s something in that for podcasters too. We connect with people we recognise something of ourselves in.

It doesn’t mean we have to agree with them about everything or have exactly the same life. Maybe it’s their humour. Their values. Their experience. Their curiosity. The way their brain seems to work. Maybe they say something and you have that little moment of realising someone else thinks about this stuff the way you do.

When we’re our genuine selves, we attract our people. You can’t really manufacture that by trying to appeal to everyone.

Podcasting is weirdly personal

Think about how people actually consume podcasts.

Someone might be listening to you while they’re driving to work alone. You’re in their ears while they’re walking the dog. They’re watching you while they eat lunch. You’re coming to the gym with them every Wednesday morning. They might spend an hour with you every week for years.

That’s a LOT of time.

And while you might be talking to hundreds or thousands of people, each of those people is usually experiencing the podcast individually. They’re not sitting in an audience watching you on a stage with everyone else. They’re often alone, with your voice directly in their ears or your face on their screen.

It’s 1:1 and also not 1:1 at the same time.

For some people, the podcasts they listen to might also give them access to conversations they don’t really have in their own lives. That was definitely true for me.

Before I had my business, I didn’t have many people around me who were interested in entrepreneurship and all the things I wanted to learn about. Podcasts gave me access to those conversations anyway. And later, when I was living away from family and friends, they gave me company too.

It didn’t matter that the people talking were somewhere else in the world or that we’d never met. I was still getting something from spending time with them.

Apparently I can also get upset when my podcast people fight

I had a very strange reminder of just how real that connection can feel while watching a podcast recently.

A show I regularly watch had a celebrity guest on who I also really like. I was excited about the episode because I thought the two of them together would be solid gold. They’re both funny, interesting people and I wanted to see where the conversation went.

About 30 minutes in, they had a disagreement.

Not a fun little debate either. The guest kept intentionally pushing the host’s buttons and didn’t seem to be understanding where the host was coming from. The host was getting more worked up because he felt misunderstood.

And I started feeling genuinely uncomfortable. Here I was watching two people I’ve never met disagree and somehow it felt a little like watching two friends fight.

Even weirder, I found myself wanting to defend the host despite the guest being one of my favourite actors. I couldn’t finish the episode.

Afterwards, I actually thought about why I’d reacted so strongly to two complete strangers having a disagreement that had absolutely nothing to do with me. And I think it came back to recognition again.

I could see parts of myself in both of them, but particularly the host in that moment. I know what it feels like to feel misunderstood and I could see how frustrated he was getting trying to explain himself.

I’d also spent a lot more time with the host. Episode after episode. Conversation after conversation. Watching him think, joke, disagree with people, ask questions and share parts of himself.

Of course I don’t actually know him. But my brain has still spent all those hours getting familiar with him.

That’s a parasocial relationship. Basically, it’s a one-sided connection we can develop with someone we regularly watch, listen to or follow even though they don’t personally know us.

And no, it doesn’t automatically mean we’re all creepy stalkers. Sometimes it just means you’ve spent a lot of time with someone’s voice and thoughts.

Apparently, enough time that you can become disappointed when they don’t become friends with the actor you wanted them to become friends with.

I really wanted that episode to work out.

This is why consistency means more than feeding an algorithm

We talk about consistency so much in content and podcasting that I think people have started hearing it as another annoying rule. Post consistently. Release consistently. Stay visible. Feed the algorithm. Do more things.

But with podcasting, there’s a human side to consistency that I think matters more.

Someone might genuinely have Wednesday at 8am in their head as the time they go to the gym and listen to your show. They’re looking forward to it.

You can’t see them waiting for the episode. You probably don’t know their name. But they’re there.

If Wednesday comes around and there’s suddenly no episode with no explanation, they’re going to notice. Maybe they’re confused. Maybe they’re disappointed.

That doesn’t mean you must release an episode every single week for the rest of your life and HOW DARE YOU EVER MISS ONE.

We’re human beings. People get sick. Kids get sick. Work gets busy. Life happens. Sometimes you’re simply not in the right headspace to sit behind a microphone and make something worth listening to.

I don’t think you should push yourself to the brink just to tick the consistency box.

Communicate.

If you usually release on Wednesday and there won’t be an episode this week, tell people. Send an email. Put something on your socials. You don’t have to tell everyone the personal details of what’s happening if you don’t want to.

Just remember there’s another human on the other side who was expecting to hear from you.

That’s what you’re protecting. Not the algorithm. The trust.

Connection doesn’t mean sharing everything

I don’t think there’s one correct amount of yourself that you need to put into a podcast either. Some people are naturally very open. Other people are private. Some podcast brands make space for personal stories and others don’t need them.

There’s no rule here.

You get to decide what’s comfortable for you, what belongs within the podcast you’re creating and what parts of your life stay yours. Connection doesn’t require giving strangers access to every part of you.

But I do think it requires enough of you to come through that people have something human to connect with. Your humour. Your curiosity. Your perspective. The way you think. The things you care about. The questions you ask. The stories you’re comfortable telling.

That’s the stuff that helps someone decide whether you’re their kind of person.

Maybe podcasts are just another way we gather

One of the beliefs behind Kollective Playground is that humans are wired to gather.

We’ve always gathered to tell stories, share knowledge, learn from each other, laugh, argue, ask questions and try to make sense of things together.

Podcasting is a pretty modern and slightly weird version of that.

The person making the podcast might be sitting alone in a studio. The person listening might be driving alone on the other side of the world. Thousands of other people might be listening at completely different times in completely different places.

But we’re still gathering around ideas and conversations.

Sometimes you’re there to learn something. Sometimes you want to laugh. Sometimes you’re curious about a person or a subject. Sometimes you’re going through a lonely patch and you just want some company while you get through your day.

The host might never know which one it was for you. They might never know you at all.

But that doesn’t make the connection on your side any less real.

And maybe that’s part of what makes podcasting so bloody special.