What is Belonging?
I was sent to the principal’s office for calling myself a “bitch” in a student blog my junior year of high school. I remember the principal reading aloud the three-paragraph blog I had submitted at the request of my English III teacher – a brief synopsis of what high school was like for me. I cringed in my head at a couple rough sections as he read through each sentence wishing I would have reworked them a bit more before calling it a final draft, but overall, I was pleased with the final production. He, on the other hand, was not amused. How could I have such a negative perception of my time in high school? The best years of my life? How could I assume my classmates didn’t like me? Why would I refer to myself as a “bitch” publicly?
A 4.0 student, record-holding track athlete, president of the youth group and well-known eldest daughter of a fourth-generation farmer in a town of 1,500 people – I was the most unlikely misfit in my high school. Why? I was pretty, smart, funny and talented. How could this accepted combination of perfection be the makings of an outcast?
Because I didn’t belong.
I have been hungry for more depth since I wrote my first poem at six. Called a rare breed by my creative writing professor in college. Told I was intimidating because I was too smart, too assertive and too direct by every male boss I’ve ever had. After a handful of decades struggling through trying to be “normal” and accept the good that I had received without being greedy and asking for more from life – I am now in my mid-30s no longer hoping or wishing. I am intentionally seeking like-minded people and connecting with those who align with the community that serves me best.
That lands me here – a mother to two daughters, Vice President of Marketing, graduate student at the University of Southern California and Community and Belonging Research Intern at FutureWomenX. I have never been so close to feeling my sense of belonging as I do at this very moment in time.
Growing up in rural Kansas with a stint in slightly less rural Oklahoma, I have felt detached from my fellow women in nearly every instance. During the first breakfast with FutureWomenX, I cried with strangers. My cup was so filled, I still haven’t come down from the high and that was days ago. How could that be? I didn’t even know the women with whom I was crying.
It’s because I have finally uncovered a truth - belonging doesn’t start with a connection to others. It starts with a connection to ourselves. It is a connection we can only find when we pause, reflect, accept and love the true version of our own being.
After years of struggle and therapy, I have finally found a connection through myself. A genuine love and respect for the unique, intelligent and quirky woman I am.
Here, as FutureWomenX’s Community & Belonging Research intern, part of my journey is now combined with each of yours. So I want to leave you with a few questions to ponder:
What does belonging to yourself feel like?
How do you identify when that belonging starts to wane?
How do you support others in their sense of belonging?