Learning to Stay in the Room

Navigating Group Conversations on Retreat

Struggling in group conversations has been one of the hardest parts of hearing the world differently.

Not one-on-one conversations.
Not quiet moments.
Groups.

Meetings, dinners, shared spaces where voices overlap and move fast.

That familiar habit of nodding along.
Smiling.
Pretending.

Early last year, I joined a yoga studio near my home. When I saw they were offering a yoga retreat in Sri Lanka, I decided it would be a birthday gift to myself.

Five days in a small coastal town, followed by solo travel afterwards.

I imagined the retreat would be the easy, nourishing part — and the solo travel the challenge.

But just before the trip, I realised something uncomfortable:
there were still parts of me that hid the fact that I hear differently.

I didn’t always tell people.
I didn’t always advocate for myself.

Instead, I adapted. Tried harder.
And when I couldn’t understand, I nodded along.

Around that time, I discovered the Hearing Loss Revolution by Pat Dobbs and its guiding principles. Three stayed with me:

• We tell people what we need to hear better.

• We don’t pretend to hear what we don’t.

• We find humour in misunderstandings.

Inspired, I told myself:
This is where I’ll practise.

Then the trip arrived.

On the way to the retreat, I sat in a van with women I had just met — native English speakers, friendly and chatty.

And suddenly my confidence vanished.

I had forgotten my international plug.
My hearing aid batteries were dying.

As the conversation flowed around me, my body froze.

When my hearing aids finally stopped working, panic rose — and then memory.

I took a breath and said:

“Hey, my hearing works differently, and my hearing aid batteries just died. I won’t be able to hear properly right now.”

The response was simple.

“No problem at all. Is your charger USB?”

Someone helped me charge them.

No awkwardness.
No judgment.
Just relief.

That small moment set the tone for the retreat. I slowly told people, one by one, that I hear differently and may need things repeated.

Still, group settings remained hard.

One evening at dinner, I sat next to someone speaking fast, the group easily following along. My body went into alert mode — trying to keep up, guessing topics, preparing answers to questions that hadn’t been asked.

Then I caught myself.

I didn’t need to understand everything.
I just needed to stay present.

Some days, connection happened one person at a time.

Not through the whole group — but through real, quieter moments.

We laughed during a cooking class.
They sang to me on my birthday.

It was a beautiful community.

And inside me, a quiet lesson was forming.

Acceptance doesn’t mean the difficulty disappears.
It means meeting yourself with patience instead of pressure.

I didn’t need to perform belonging.
I needed to allow myself to belong differently.

If this feels familiar

If group conversations drain you…
If you’ve ever nodded along just to survive…

You’re not alone.

You’re allowed to advocate for yourself.
You’re allowed to rest.
And you’re allowed to belong as you are.

If this story resonated with you, I invite you to share your experience — here, or within the Hearing Bridge Movement.

Your story matters.
And it might be the bridge someone else needs.

Warmly,
Natasha Lourenço
Founder & Ambassador, The Hearing Bridge Movement