Why do so many of us feel like outsiders? Maybe because our idea of what it means to “belong” needs a revisioning.
My first email address was Lost87. Not because I watched that show where people are stranded on a desert island, but because lost felt like the perfect descriptor for how I felt as a whole. I wore that identity like a cloak.
I switched to a more "grown up" email somewhere in my mid twenties, not because I stopped feeling lost—but because that vulnerability, out there in the open, felt too "emo".
Looking back, I wonder how many of us wear masks like this, concealing the parts of ourselves that feel too messy for public consumption. Is it any wonder so many of us feel disconnected?
The Trap of False Belonging
Sometimes I fall into the trap of false belonging. I become a shapeshifter, a chameleon, trying to blend in with whatever group I find myself in. It's a survival tactic, called "masking".
Maybe you’ve been there too: surrounded by people who seem to have it all figured out, silently decoding their unspoken rules, trying to contort yourself into their mold. Sometimes you become so good at masking you forget where the facade ends and you begin.
But if you have to cut off parts of yourself to fit in, that's not belonging. It’s abandonment, of yourself. And it will leave you feeling more lost than before.
The Outsider’s Path
On the flip side, I’ve also embraced the role of the outsider. This is the tendancy with those of us who sway towards self sabatoge. Sometimes, it's as if we're determined to prove that we don’t belong anywhere. When you’ve been hurt, when you’ve trusted and lost, it makes solitude feels much safer than the alternative.
But when we shut ourselves off from others, we don’t just protect ourselves—we prevent others ability to connect with us. The pieces of yourself that you’ve hidden, ignored, or tried to change are usually the very things that hold the power to create genuine connection. Hang on to these things that have been silenced and find a way to put them into words.
We all have a place where feelings of unbelonging stem from. What are you longing for? What is missing in your life? Digging into these tender places, exploring the roots of our separation, is where the work begins.
The Expectations of Womanhood
Growing up, I absorbed a message from society that as a woman, I was supposed to have children. It was the script—the master plan I was supposed to follow: Get married, have a baby. This wasn’t just a personal choice; it was a cultural expectation. As 'childless by choice" and "childless by circumstance" groups becomes more commonly known and accepted, this script is changing. But when I was growing up, that wasnt something people talked about, so I never questioned that blueprint.
One of the first questions that is asked of a woman in conversation is, "Do you have kids?
Not your interests, your passions, your ideas—they go straight to the question that confirms: You’ve fulfilled your duty, right? You're in the club, right?
If motherhood is the ultimate marker of womanhood, then where does that leave those of us who choose a different path? For the woman who doesn't have children, the question becomes, Where do I belong?
But here’s the thing:
The journey to true belonging, especially for those of us who feel like outsiders in some way, doesn’t always follow any script.
For years, I struggled with wanting to find a community. I thought if I could just find the right group of people, the right circle, I would finally feel seen and understood. I attended countless workshops, womens circles, and different yoga studios, trying to find my home.
For awhile, it worked, but then for whatever reason, I would start to feel out of place again, plans would keep falling through, people wouldn't show up, and I'd drift away. Eventually, I stopped trying to force it.
The reality is, I prefer being alone most of the time. Being around others, especially in group settings, drains my energy. I need time to replenish my reserves—to breathe, to be still, to simply exist without the pull of external expectations.
I used to think this meant something was wrong with me—that I wasn’t “outgoing” enough. But I see now that my quiet, introspective nature is my strength.
It’s not about being part of the club.
Here’s the surprising truth I’ve discovered: belonging isn’t about fitting into some predefined mold or finding the perfect group of people. True belonging begins with you. It’s about claiming your place in this world just as you are—without needing to change, prove, or conform. If you don’t feel at home within yourself, no group, no circle, no tribe will ever fill that void.
Belonging must be found inside yourself before you could ever find it anywhere else. It is an inner journey to self-acceptance. If you have a strong sense of self-belonging, it won’t matter if others get you or not.
A New Vision of Belonging
I'm no longer subscribing to the societal narrative of what a community should look like. I don’t need to follow the path that others have paved for me.
I’ve come to understand that my longing for connection isn’t about “finding my people”. I see now that I’ve always been part of something bigger. I belong to nature, to the earth, to the moon, to the seasons, and to the quiet spaces in between.
Nature, in its raw form, is a community that doesn’t ask anything from me or expect me to change. It simply exists, offering connection in its most authentic form. It’s in these spaces, where the noise fades, that I’ve found my place. And in that, I am enough.
What About You?
If you’ve feel like an outsider, ask yourself:
What is it exactly that you are longing for?
Where are you cutting off pieces of yourself to fit in?
What would it feel like to belong to yourself first?
The world doesn’t need another mask or perfectly curated identity. It needs you.
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