Belonging and Unbelonging

Determined to fit in and be enough right from the beginning…

When I was 8 years old I was hit right in the heart with a story that for the next 63 years I believed was true.  It colored everything I did, everything I thought and was the story I repeated to myself over and over again. It was my truth.  I say was my truth because through some work I've done I've recognized the story for what it is, and more importantly, what it's not.  I'll share it with you now.

It was evening, around dinner time in the big, old house we'd come back to live in with my Grandma, Grandpa and 2 uncles that were not that much older than me, so they were like brothers to me.  By we I mean my mother, my brother and me.  And by coming back to live I mean that we'd been there before to live as a family of 4.  This time, my dad was out of the picture. My mom was divorcing him because he cheated on her.  In 1958 it was it's own scandal to have that reality, but that's not my story.  Mine is simpler, even though it's really complex.  Simple, because it could have been so different for me by just a glance my way, a smile or the queen of recognition, a hug.  Complex because it became a life long story for me.

So, here we all were in the big dining room, not sitting at the table, but up either clearing or setting the table, I don't remember which and that's not salient to my story.  I was on one side of the room, my mother on the other.  The others were bustling around us.  I looked at my mother across the room. She was standing alone on one side of the table, her gaze was directed down and off to the side, and I was so alone on the other side. I needed her to see me, alone and unsure of my place in this new reality.  I needed her to hear me screaming in my head.  I needed her to reach out and draw me into a comforting hug.  I tried to will her to notice me, to look my way. All I needed was a hug, a look, to be seen.  

And it didn't happen.  In that instant I knew I wasn't enough.  I was invisible.  That was my truth.  I was a square peg in a round hole.  I didn't belong.  

I've come to learn that most of us have some kind of inflection moment from which everything sprouts.  Some, I suppose have a positive sprouting, but most inflection points are painful.  They cause us to shape our reality and personality from that moment on, whether we're aware of it or not.  Most of us are not aware. In my case, it became my life goal to be noticed, to be part of what was happening, to fit in. I lost myself along the way and it's only because of some strong inner compass or keel that I stayed, for the most part, safe and turned out as brilliant as I did.  It was through work I did this year with a program called Mission Curve (if you're a believer ask me for contact information.  If you're not a believer, well we have another convo to have maybe) that I became aware of that point for me. 

Brene Brown says that the difference between belonging and fitting in is great.  Most of us mistake fitting in for belonging.  "...fitting in is the greatest barrier to belonging because fitting in says, 'Be like them to be accepted.'  Belonging says, 'This is who I am.'" Boom.  Belonging is who I am.  Fitting in is what I had been trying to do for my entire life. I'm not enough as I am, so I'll become who I think you want so you'll accept me.  What a huge recipe for psychic disaster, you guys.  

You, reader, have likely felt like an unbelonged, a square peg in a round hole at some point in your life.  Maybe, like me, for most of it felt like not enough.  Not tall enough, not smart enough, not pretty enough, not thin enough...just not enough.  It's not a new concept by any means, so it's likely that you've dealt with it. 

I want you to know that by virtue of the fact that you are drawing breath, that you woke up this morning that you are enough. You belong here.  What may be missing for you is a piece of your puzzle that on one hand is simple, on the other is literally life changing. It's this: your task is to find out what your mission is, what you're intended to do here.  That's where my work with Mission Curve helped me and I recommend it to you.  Who are you created to be?  Not that broken-hearted child, surely!