Last weekend, I was at the second annual AtmosphereConf among 300-some-odd of the kindest people I think I’ve ever met in tech/tech-adjacent spaces. I wanted to capture some of my emotions as I left the space on Monday, so here’s a peek into my experience.
I’ve opted to keep people’s names out since this isn’t a transient post on the skyline. That said, I hope the references are clear and you know when to insert yourself.
So, with that said, here’s my AtmosphereConf 2026 experience.
Anxiety, then Energy
Online and at short events, I typically present as extrovert. But, over the years, I’ve learned that I have a pretty low social battery, especially when I have to be in big crowds, even when it’s full of folks I know well. So you can imagine the feelings I tend to feel when I’m about to go to a conference that has more than 300 people who I mostly interact with online.
As I walked into the UBC Nest on Friday afternoon, I had this nervous feeling in my gut that people’s first in-person impression of me would end up being awkward or, at least, not what they expected based on my perpetual posting online.
But, the moment I walked in, I saw a couple friends, both of whom I was meeting in person for the very first time after consistently speaking with them online over video calls for the last year and change. They both gave me a tight hug, and I immediately felt the pressure valve release and I knew I’d be okay.
From there, for the next few days, I was in rooms with some of my favorite people I hang out with online every single day, spending time together in-person, and all I felt was the energy of the rooms energize me.
Not Enough Time
If there was one statement made more than “we can just do things”, it was “I wish we had more time.”
At AtmosphereConf 2025, we were a much smaller group of folks, most of whom either knew each other, or at least knew of each other. This time, it was the same, except double in size. This meant I had to pick between friends for sessions and hallway meetups. As the days would draw to a close, I would get this sudden rush of “oh my god, I didn’t meet insert list of 10 people here yet.”
I’m sorry if I cornered you and forced you into a conversation when you were in a rush to get somewhere, I just didn’t know if I’d run into you again. I know those moments weren’t goodbye, but I also wanted that time with you in person even if for a few minutes.
All those laughs and hugs were worth it, I hope!
Breaking Bread
Anyone who knows me understands that I’m highly food-motivated. My love language is sharing meals together, and eating over conversation until we can’t speak anymore.
Turns out, the corner of the Atmosphere I spend time in has at least a few folks who feel the same way.
Every meal would start with a couple people, then double, then double again, and then double on top of that. But, because we were all in the same room with long meals, it gave us the opportunity to connect on a deeper level, 1-on-1, and learn more about each other outside of our work.
Turns out, the Atmosphere has a whole lot of creative, community-minded folks. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a tech conference with such a high density of well-rounded humans. You’re so incredibly special, and I can’t wait to see what you accomplish in the coming year, whether it’s in this space or whatever your heart desires. I think a lot of you are going to change a part of the world you deeply care about.
It was a pleasure sharing ducks (yes, plural), donairs, and desserts with all of you.
If you ever find yourself near my city in the future, please don’t hesitate to reach out and let me know what kind of food you want to eat. I can’t wait to have another meal with you.
The Future
I actively avoided talking about any tracks or sessions in this piece because I need to go back to the presentations to either digest them further, or watch them for the first time. There’s a lot to unpack, and I want to do so carefully.
One thing that was clear throughout the conference sessions, however, was that the future isn’t stagnation. While this conference had over 300 people, the next one will likely almost double, if not more, just like our dinner groups did. The momentum is steep, the energy is clear, and I’m not really sure if there’s any turning back. That’s exciting.
But with that excitement came a gut punch as I sat there on Monday morning typing away.
We already didn’t get enough time. Will we ever get enough time? Will the friendships that have grown over the last couple of years start to change as this environment expands and coop-etition leads to deeper competition? There were moments of tension in the air already, whether it was toward the Bluesky team or among smaller projects.
There’s this mixed feeling of dread that the success of the work happening today will grow the Atmosphere into something bigger than us. In winning, we may lose the things that made this year’s conference feel human in a way that’s a little hard to explain.
It’s probably a good thing, but I’m not quite ready to be happy about it.
Choosing Joy & Gratitude
Maybe that feeling of dread is misplaced. It’s, at least, a little early to feel this way. But I wouldn’t be who I am if I wasn’t always trying take a peek into the future of the work I’m doing and see if I belong in it or if it even requires me.
But, perhaps getting ahead of myself is taking away from the joy I felt this last week.
So, instead of thinking about the future today, I think I’m going to cherish what I experienced this time around, and choose to lean into the joy, starting with the joy you all brought me.
Thank you to everyone who pulled me aside in the hallway for a chat. You made me feel seen and appreciated.
Thank you to everyone who let me pull them aside in the hallway, even when they were in a rush to get somewhere. I’m so happy we had our chat, brief or not.
Thank you to everyone who took time out of their busy day to have a long conversation with me. Some of us were meeting after a long time, some of us were meeting in person for the first time ever. I’m so glad we got to catch up or get to know each other better.
Thank you to everyone who gave a talk. You taught me so much about how we can build together, be more intentional about the things we do, and take care of the people we build for. I have many talks to catch up on, but from what I hear, there wasn’t a single miss. It’ll take time to get through all of them, but I’m sure it’ll be worth it.
Thank you to everyone who dealt with the chaos of dinners that felt planned when we had no real plans whatsoever. Y’all were troopers while being hungry beyond measure, and I felt your pain in that moment.
Thank you to the people who helped organize dinners regardless of the mess and hanger that came with it. It’s a different kind of bonding when you’re in multiple Ubers trying to coordinate because a restaurant won’t let us in.
Thank you to everyone who told me they appreciate the work Ryan and I do at A New Social. Being two full-time volunteers can sometimes take a toll on my mind, but seeing the impact we made on so many of you makes it all worth it.
Thank you to everyone who showed up to my talk, intently listened, documented it, and cheered me on. It was a blur, and I deeply apologize for taking more time than I was assigned. But, like everything else at this conference: there just wasn’t enough time.
And, finally, thank you to all the organizers and the giant list of volunteers who made this conference what it was. You all made magic happen.
I hope we all convene somewhere the same time next year, wherever that may be.
Until then: see you on the skyline, with overwhelming joy.
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