Yearning to belong.

I’ve always had a thing for shoes. I’ve tried on a lot of shoes and I’m still not stuck on a favorite pair. I love brogues as much as ballerinas. I spent ten years of my life wearing, scuffing, and polishing straight-laced black oxfords which I hated with a burning passion. Stiff, unforgiving, and the same as all the other girls at my school, I found them stifling. One of my first purchases as a fifteen year old with a bit of her own pocket money, was a pair of red ballet flats trimmed with metallic piping and topped with a silver bow. I bought them to complement a Victorian-inspired white ruffled shirt and a very short, navy, ballerina-style mini skirt. I loved every inch of that outfit, it was exactly what my parents would never in a million years buy for me. 

I became very conscious of my physical identity early on, constantly assessing and recalibrating as I assimilated to my surroundings. When I started Kindergarten, I began to notice the other girls’ long braids with deep envy. At lunch, their pastel colored snowsuits, Barbie lunch boxes, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were laid out in stark contrast to my pixie cut, no frills lunch box, and liverwurst sandwiches. Compounding everything, pronouncing my name was a challenge for everyone, eventually I just learned to ignore it. I stood out like a sore thumb.

At least that’s how I felt. It lasted far too long. Even at fifty-six, I still have moments where my footing slips. I still experiment with different clothing styles, trying on various personalities, to see what fits. Vacillating between different identities doesn’t unnerve me as much as it used to. What I realize now, is that many, if not most people feel the same way. According to research done by the American Immigration Council, “sixty-four percent of Americans reported non-belonging in the workplace, 68% in the nation, and 74% in their local community.” That’s a powerful equalizer. I also know now that our identities and our sense of belonging changes over time, depending upon our age, our roles, and the setting we’re in. It also shifts as our experience deepens and we mature. 

When we belong, we feel seen for our true selves. We speak up, express ourselves, and share opinions without stoking the fires of anxiety and fear. This is the holy grail. Feeling secure and connected requires a lifetime of self-discovery. And, it takes two to tango. We must surround ourselves with people that encourage our uniqueness and accept us for who we are, and we must cultivate a society where difference is valued and perceived as an essential ingredient to a rich, diverse, productive community. Though, like all things, it’s a delicate balance. On the one hand, we need to be true to ourselves, on the other, we need to find ways to integrate into the collective whole. How do you balance the two? For me, respect and resiliency are the twin keys. Respect for ourselves, for others, and for the community in which we live. And, the resiliency to change, even ourselves.