Want to be more interesting? Cultivate this one habit all interesting people share

It happened one ordinary afternoon at work.

My manager was deep in conversation with a colleague, and I was standing nearby, quietly pretending to mind my own business.

Except, of course, I wasn’t. I was listening. Intently.

At some point, without even realising it, I chimed in with a follow-up question about whatever they were discussing, something about a project deadline, if I remember correctly.

My manager turned, gave me that look, and sighed.

“Why are you always so nosy?” he asked, half exasperated, half amused.

He wasn’t wrong.

It wasn’t the first time I’d done it either. I have this habit of drifting into conversations that don’t technically concern me.

Not because I want to pry, but because I genuinely want to understand; the how, the what, but especially the why.

And honestly, that moment stuck with me.

Because he was right, I am nosy.

But over the years, I’ve realised that this nosiness, this relentless curiosity, has shaped everything I’ve become.

It’s opened doors, sparked friendships, inspired stories, and pulled me into worlds I never expected to enter.

I’ve also noticed something else along the way.

The most interesting people I’ve met, in every city and culture I’ve lived in, seem to share the same quiet instinct.

They’re the ones who ask questions that go a little deeper, who listen like they might actually learn something new, who seem more alive simply because they’re paying attention.

That spark isn’t luck or charm, it’s a habit.

And after years of observing it, I’ve come to believe that the most magnetic people in the world all share this one thing in common.

They are endlessly, relentlessly curious.

Not the nosy “I wonder why the neighbours are taking their rubbish out at a different time than usual today?” kind of curious (though that too has its charm).

But a deeper, more generous kind.

The kind that wants to understand rather than judge, to connect rather than conclude.

The Antidote to Certainty: Why Curiosity Keeps Life Interesting

Here’s the truth. Curiosity has an enemy, and it’s not ignorance.

It’s certainty, that quiet arrogance that whispers, “I already know EVERYTHING.”

You can hear it everywhere; in a dinner party conversation that goes stale, in a meeting where people talk over one another, in the way we scroll past the unfamiliar online without giving it a second glance.

But curiosity doesn’t live in the world of absolutes.

It thrives in the in-between; in questions, nuance, and the willingness to be surprised.

It’s what keeps life interesting, and people interesting.

When I first moved to Beijing (2009), that lesson hit hard.

Overnight, I went from confident professional to wide-eyed beginner.

My expertise meant nothing when I couldn’t read a street sign, decipher a menu, or order a meal without Google Translate panicking mid-sentence.

I once tried to pay a bus driver in cash and earned the kind of look you give someone who’s just tried to hand you a live chicken.

But slowly, I realised that being out of my depth wasn’t a crisis. It was an invitation. My survival depended on curiosity.

It became my language before I learned the actual one. An elderly shopkeeper once spent ten minutes tracing the Chinese characters for "ginger” on my receipt so I’d remember it next time.

She didn’t see my confusion as annoying; she saw my curiosity as connection — as proof that I cared enough to try.

Years later in London, that curiosity has only revealed itself in subtler ways.

People turn questioning into an art form.

My colleagues can debate for an entire lunch hour whether pineapple truly belonged on pizza or if avocado toast has become a class marker.

It sometimes seems absurd, yes, but also wonderful.

Proof that curiosity doesn’t always have to be profound to be meaningful.

Sometimes it’s just a shared willingness to explore a random question fully, with wit, humour, and a bit of heart.

That’s how I have come to realise curious people see threads where others see gaps.

They treat life not as a museum to be walked through but as a living story that’s still being written, and they’re eager to co-write it.

Why Being ‘Too Nosy’ Is Actually Your Secret Superpower

That said, being curious doesn't always get you applause.

It means asking the next question when others would fall silent.

A date once told me he had a 'standard' day at the office.

"What does a standard day look like?" I asked.

He gave a vague answer.

So I asked the next, more pointed question: "Okay, but what did you actually accomplish today?”

He laughed and said, "You're exhausting."

Fair. I've been called too nosy my whole life, but I've learned to take it as the highest compliment.

As a journalist, asking the unspoken question is muscle memory.

But in life, it’s how I make sense of everything. I want to know why.

Why people stay in jobs that hollow them out, why they leave relationships that looked perfect on the outside, why some thrive in chaos while others crave control.

This kind of curiosity isn’t always polite, but it’s powerful.

It’s the same “why is this the process?” asked in a meeting that challenges outdated systems.

It’s the “what did that moment teach you?” asked over coffee that turns small talk into soul talk.

And on a personal level, curiosity transforms the everyday.

A dull train ride becomes a quiet documentary in motion: a businessman clenching his jaw before a presentation, a teenager texting their crush, a grandmother clutching flowers like a secret.

The ordinary turns cinematic when you start noticing.

Even the mundane, like a grocery run, becomes a study in human behaviour.

What we buy says who we are.

The basket filled with sukuma wiki and mursik speaks of control; the one with wine and crisps whispers, “today was a lot.”

Here’s the science behind it. Curiosity is its own natural high.

Studies show that seeking answers releases dopamine, the brain’s feel-good chemical.

Your brain literally rewards you for being interested.

It’s biology’s way of saying, “keep exploring.”

So yes, curiosity feels good, and it’s good for you.

What Curiosity Has Taught Me About Culture and Connection

One thing I’ve realised is that curiosity isn’t just intellectual; it’s experiential.

It’s not enough to know something; you have to live it.

Take the island of Lamu, for instance.

You can read about its Swahili architecture and centuries-old culture, but nothing compares to actually being there, walking its narrow coral streets, feeling the humidity cling to your skin, sipping spiced tea as the ocean hums in the distance.

You don’t just see it; you absorb it.

That same curiosity once led me to a small trattoria in Jesolo, where I ordered a bowl of polenta.

One bite in, and I froze. The texture was familiar, comforting.

Then it hit me. Italians eat ugali; they just call it polenta.

It became a quiet obsession.

The Italians’ pizza fritta turned out to be what we call in Kenya maandazi.

The Chinese breakfast youtiao? Hello…also Maandazi.

Another cousin in the same golden, fried family. When I realised this, I actually laughed out loud.

The same comfort food, circling the globe, wearing different names.

That’s when it clicked.

We’re far more alike than we realise. Food, like curiosity, connects us across continents.

The more you travel, taste, and ask, the more you see.

We’re all seasoning the same stories in our own way.

How Curiosity Builds Joy, Presence and Grace

When you live curiously, the world becomes sharper and brighter.

You slow down enough to notice the details, the way someone’s face lights up when they talk about what they love, or how their voice trembles when they talk about what they’ve lost.

You learn to watch before you judge, to ask before you assume.

That shift, from certainty to wonder, changes everything.

Curious people are gentler, more open, more grounded.

They don’t rush through life collecting opinions; they move through it collecting understanding.

You start to see life differently.

The small moments that used to slip by become stories.

The everyday feels alive again.

And somehow, without even trying, that awareness begins to show.

In how you listen, how you speak, how you move through the world.

That’s the quiet power of curiosity. It doesn’t just make you interesting; it makes you magnetic.

The Real Takeaway: Curiosity Is an Act of Love

Now as you know, curiosity takes courage.

The world moves fast, and it often rewards certainty over wonder.

We scroll, we react, we assume.

Algorithms show us what we already like, trapping us in loops of sameness.

But curiosity asks something slower and braver.

It asks you to pause. To listen.

To explore what doesn’t immediately make sense.

And when you meet someone who still does that, who still marvels, who still asks why, you feel it instantly.

They remind you what it means to be alive, engaged, awake to the beauty of not knowing everything.

So, if anyone ever calls you too nosy, take it as the compliment it is. It means you’re still paying attention.

And for as long as there are whys left unanswered, stories untold, and people unexplored, keep digging.

That’s not just where a good life starts. It’s where a great one unfolds.

How You too Can be Curious

• Ask the question that hasn’t been asked. At work, at dinner, in your journal. Dig deeper than what’s visible.

• Read the plaque on the random wall. History hides in the margins.

• Ask the waiter where the recipe came from. Food is culture on a plate.

• Try the dish you can’t pronounce. You will expand your food palate this way.

• Notice the architecture, the accents, the energy of a place. Be awake to your surroundings. They’re stories waiting to be read.