“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”
I ask my friend, Savannah, who is sitting across the couch relentlessly typing away at an essay on her laptop. In the midst of her burning passion of curating words and sentences together, Savannah turns to look me in the eye and said, “Yes. I would be a worm with you,” and then went back to destroying the keyboards on her laptop without sparing a second. Bless her sweet heart.Â
It sounds ridiculous, and honestly, it kind of is. But beneath the jokes and playful debates about whether someone would still love you as a tiny, legless creature, there’s something so captivating and interesting about hypothetical questions. Why do we ask them? And how can a question about being a worm somehow turn into a conversation about love, loyalty, and what it means to truly care about someone.
“Would you rather be loved more than you love someone, or love someone more than they love you?”
“Is it better to have loved and lost, or never have loved at all?”
“If your partner lost all of their memories, would you try to have them fall in love with you again?
I think hypothetical questions allow us to explore parts of ourselves that might not come up in everyday conversations. We might think of ourselves as honest, loyal, or courageous, but what happens when those values are put to the test? Would you tell the truth if it meant losing someone you loved? Would you sacrifice your own happiness for someone else’s? By placing ourselves in unfamiliar situations, we get to imagine who we might become when our usual circumstances no longer apply.
“What is something you would do if you had no fear?”
“If you had a microphone and a speaker that would be announced to everyone on the planet for 10 seconds, what would you say?”
“If you won a million dollars suddenly, what is the first thing you would do?”
There’s also a psychological element to the way we answer these questions. Our responses can reveal what we value, what we fear, and how we want to see ourselves. We might believe we’d act courageously in a difficult situation, like daydreaming in the middle of class about how you would save the entire class in front of your crush if something terrible happened. But imagining something and actually experiencing it are two very different things. Still, the person we imagine ourselves becoming is interesting in its own right. Sometimes, our answers tell us less about who we are and more about who we hope to be.
“If you became everything you ever wanted to be but no longer recognized yourself, would it be worth it?
“If your best friend committed a serious crime, would you help them or turn them in?”
“If you could have dinner with anyone, dead or alive, who would you meet?”
Beyond self-reflection, hypothetical questions can be a surprisingly intimate way to get to know someone. It can feel awkward to ask someone directly about their deepest fears or insecurities, but placing those feelings into an imaginary scenario makes them easier to approach. Asking someone whether they fear abandonment might feel a little too personal. But asking, “If you knew someone you loved would eventually leave you, would you still choose to be with them?” opens up a different kind of conversation. What starts as a hypothetical can gradually become something much more personal, without either person having to force it.
“Would you rather meet your 8 year old self, or 80 year old self?”
“If you were raised in a completely different environment, do you think you’d have the same values?”
“As a career, would you rather do something you love, or something you’re good at?”
Perhaps that’s the real beauty of these questions. The answer is rarely the end of the conversation. A question about forgiveness can turn into a discussion about whether people can change. A question about love can reveal what someone believes makes a relationship worth having. The original scenario almost becomes irrelevant because you’re no longer talking about what someone would do, you’re talking about you.
“If you found out that you only had 24 hours left to live, what would you do?”
“Would you rather go back to the past, or go to the future?”
“If you could relive one day in your life, which day would it be?”
We often think getting to know someone means learning about their past, their experiences, and the things they’ve been through. But I propose another way to understand someone: by exploring the worlds they imagine. After all, a good hypothetical doesn’t just make us think about a different life. It makes us question the one we’re already living, the values we hold, and the people we believe ourselves to be. So if you’re someone who struggles to make conversation, or want to get to know someone better, ask them, “What would you do if I was a worm?”