I used to feel that I did. I'd hear people talking quickly, making jokes, keeping things moving, and I found it impressive. Then I'd try to copy that while I was struggling to speak.
That put even more pressure on me. I was already thinking about getting the words out. Now I thought I also had to be fast, say a lot and be clever while doing it.
I had to take a step back and watch other kinds of speakers. I noticed people I regarded as confident or powerful who spoke more slowly and said less. They weren't all performing at a hundred miles an hour.
That changed the picture I was carrying of what a good conversation had to look like.
I could say less and still be in the conversation
I could say a sentence or a phrase. I could ask something and hear the response. I didn't have to fill every quiet moment or immediately launch into a story.
That was a relief. I had made conversation into an enormous job before I even began it. Seeing that someone could be comfortable saying less helped me change that expectation.
The people I had admired for being quick were only one example of how a conversation could sound. There were other ways to speak that I wanted to learn from too.
What I started paying attention to
I watched tone and pace. I listened to how someone sounded when they were comfortable. I became more interested in the actual exchange than in trying to match somebody else's speed.
This is part of what I mean by learning the art of conversation. I had spent years thinking about how to get a word out. I also had to learn what I could do once I was talking with another person.
A question. An answer. A little curiosity. Some room for them to speak.
I didn't have to be the quickest or funniest person there for that to be a conversation worth having.