There is a story that's beginning to unravel in my head. The story is called: you are too different to belong. The entire plot is just a list of people, places, and experiences that I have felt “too different” for (and by proxy: rejected by). It is, craft-wise, a deeply boring and uninteresting story.
When I was younger - I vacillated between taking pride in this “difference,” and being shattered by it. As I grew - sometimes I was rewarded for it (“you’re not like other girls”), and other times, seemingly punished for it (“it’s so hard for me to make friends”).
The hilarious thing about this story is that it is both true, and not true.
It is true because - duh. WE ARE ALL SO DIFFERENT FROM ONE ANOTHER. By design. On purpose. So “being different” is not fair causality for un-belonging.
And it is also not true because – I am not “too” different for any one space, person, or experience. My belief that I am is what is causing my own isolation.
You ever go down an Instagram hole of all of the people who ever rejected you? Romantically, platonically, professionally? No? Just me?
Against my better judgment, I decided to do this yesterday. Just a total circle-jerk of rejection until I was left feeling flat.
I felt the old story rear its ugly head - “You will always be the odd one out. You just aren’t meant to belong.”
With some detective work, I can figure out roughly when this story originated, how it continued to bloom, and all of the life experiences that continued to validate it. And if I wanted to - I could keep telling myself this bullshit story like a bedtime lullaby for the rest of my days.
But - who exactly is this serving? Because it definitely ain’t me.
There is a spiritual concept that talks about how, as creators of our own lives, we will continue to get presented with people, places, and experiences that give us a chance to learn the lessons we’re meant to learn. We can either adjust the way we behave and show up - or not. And then deem it “bad luck” or “who we are” or “just the way our lives go.”
You don’t have to believe in it. I don’t even know if I do 100%. But what I do think this theory offers is the option of things going differently. It places us back into the seat of control over our lives. It makes life feel more like a video game (how can I adjust my strategy and moves?) than a pile of quicksand we’re constantly falling into (woe is awkward old introverted me!).
^ The OG life-is-a-simulation evangelist. ^
To call myself out a bit – if I am bought into the idea that we are just balls of energy moving around, and that people can pick up what I’m putting down before any words are even spoken – then how can I expect to make, build, and deepen new relationships if my energy is all “You’re just going to reject and/or abandon me in the end!!!” It doesn’t work like that. It never has.
Think of the last person you genuinely befriended - is it because they came at you with a bunch of fearful insecurity, or because their presence organically drew you in? I’m not saying we can’t be insecure with our friends – but I am wondering if staying in that state is what holds us back from being deeply seen and loved for who we are beyond them. There is a difference between playfully acknowledging our eccentricities, and feeling deeply defined or restricted by them.
Old story: I am too different (broken/weird) to belong.
Revision process: I can negate an old story without years of therapy or a bunch of mushrooms - I can just do it by embodying its opposing force.
New story: I belong here because I am different. (Which is true for you, and you, and you, too.) It is our differences that make us interesting to, not separate from, one another. Being different does not deny inherent unity.
Reminder to self: you want to feel like you belong in more places?
Step one: revise your story, and then act like it.
