“Fitting in is about assessing a situation and becoming who you need to be accepted. Belonging, on the other hand, doesn’t require us to change who we are.”
Belonging is critical for us to feel safe, secure and cared for. Is belonging a feeling? What does it feel like? How will I know when I have true belonging? What is the difference between belonging and fitting in? Let’s take a look at what it looks like to find true belonging.
When you can take off your mask and be yourself without fear of being judged, then you probably belong. Ironically, there are groups of people that are so judgmental that part of how they create belonging is by judging others together, like religious groups, athletics, and country clubs. Just look at many of today’s social media posts, and you will find no shortage of judgments and opinions hurled about. If I am desperate enough, I will tolerate this behavior. I call this the middle school model of belonging. You may experience momentary shots of being a part of a group, but you still have to hide parts of yourself to be in. This is fitting in, not belonging.
I used to LOVE gossiping. I could fit in very quickly and easily when I could find just one other person who enjoyed speaking badly about other people. If you don’t have something nice to say, then come sit next to me. We’d whisper and giggle and make rude comments. We’d judge. We’d have strong opinions. We’d “should” on people. The rub was that I always felt badly afterward. I secretly wondered if someday someone would overhear me or catch me on video saying terrible things. I was completely out of integrity when I gossiped, and I knew it. We are motivated to gossip from our fear of being lesser than, having low self-esteem and creating scapegoats. My mind could overpower my heart and my gut, but there was always this feeling of unease that I couldn’t totally ignore. It always caught up with me. I was mistaking “fitting in” with belonging. If you can’t have deep connection, then you probably don’t have belonging.
It’s one thing to know that you need to move away from certain groups of people. It’s quite another to actually do it. I found it to be a painful process, as I had come to love many of these people even though I became uncomfortable with who I was when I was with them. The confidence to follow through with it came from the people in my life that accepted for who I am. When I began, I could count all the people who really knew me on one hand. Thankfully, these few people supported me as I allowed some people to drift out of my life.
When I first joined a coaching group after 6 months of trying to launch my coaching business, I was expecting to learn the tips and tricks to make my business grow. So imagine my surprise when on our first video call, our coach asked us to introduce ourselves followed by the statement “what I don’t want you to know about me is …” Because I had no time to prepare an answer that would impress them or show how smart I am, I blurted out, “I don’t want you to know that I don’t think I belong here.” Then our coach asked if anyone else felt the same way and raise their hands. Every one of those 9 other coaches raised their hand. I had shown a little bit of my vulnerability to these strangers, and they accepted me. I felt instant relief, connection, and love. Week after week, our video calls would have us sharing our vulnerabilities with each other. After spending 6 months with these people, my confidence exploded as I had a deep sense of belonging with a group of people who shared our darkest and scariest thoughts with each other. They didn’t judge me. They didn’t minimize my fears. They didn’t avert their eyes when I made my ugly cry face. They didn’t try to fix, rescue or save me. They just listened, connected and supported me. You know you belong when people accept you, warts and all.
As a person who experiences possibility-gasms™ from new ideas, I learned that finding the right idea people was critical. Suddenly, all of those people I used to make fun of for their pie in the sky ideas became my best resources. These people have remained the same, but I am the one who changed. When I need to brainstorm a new idea, these are the people who are incredibly valuable to me. Of course, I also become a resource for their big ideas. It’s like a huge idea-love-excitement-possibility-gasm™ fest. Sharing an idea is a vulnerable, out on a limb act, so it is critical to find a group who will give you a safe space for it.
It’s always seemed contradictory that we tend to dismiss people with crazy ideas, but we glamorize them if their ideas actually work, like Elon Musk, Abraham Lincoln, and Mahatma Gandhi. I have been on the school board for seven years. One of my fellow school board members has all sorts of ideas that are way outside of the box. Many of the status quo types get uncomfortable when he presents his big, bold ideas. Yet he never seems deterred. He would take the criticism, eye rolling and smirking and continue on his merry way. Next meeting, he would probe us with another what if question, and the idea would get shot down. Again. There was always a part of me that was inspired by his ideas and the way he tenaciously came back each time with another edgy thing to try.
When I decided to change careers, he was notably somebody I sought for support. I mean, really, who goes from 20 years of designing oil refineries to becoming a coach anyways. When he heard my idea, he loved it. He found all sorts of ways to love it. He supported it before it even came out of my mouth. I’ve continued to use him as a sounding board for my own crazy ideas, and it’s been priceless to me and my business. When you have people with whom you can share your crazy ideas, then you have true belonging.
When I was involved in groups, teams at work and different community organizations, I made the assumption that I belonged simply because I was a member. I was surrounded by other members, yet I still felt lonely. I think I have discovered another trait of true belonging has to do with intention. When someone is looking for my best interests, then I feel like I can conquer anything.
One of my female clients had some pretty serious marital issues. She and her husband were slipping into a downward spiral of resentment and anger. Years of unmet expectations, betrayals, financial mishandlings and verbal abuses left these two feel like there was no hope of building a bright future together. My client shared her feelings with her spouse one evening in a very effective way by using her “I” statements, asking open ended questions and trying desperately to be kind and curious while simultaneously not being a doormat. The conversation ended with her spouse leaving without any word on whether or not he was returning. While distraught, she was proud of herself for having a difficult conversation without losing herself in the drama. When she returned from work the next day, her spouse was sitting in her home office looking at the financial books she kept for their side business. He looked up at her and said, “I never realized how complicated all of this was.” In that moment, they both experienced the sense that he was looking out for her. He wanted her to know that he was clueless about how much pressure she was experiencing. He didn’t want that for her. His acknowledgment showed her that he wanted to support her and also wanted to know more. It was a launching point for them to co-create a future where they each considered the other continuously. You know you belong when you have their best interests at heart, and they have yours too.
If you know Brene Brown, then you know that vulnerability is an important skill to living a wholehearted life. She has shown us through her research, her books and her TED talks that we can all stand to be a little more vulnerable. Of course, it’s not to be vulnerable to everyone all the time. Instead, it’s to find another trustworthy human and share what’s going on for us on the inside. This may feel risky, so having some people standing with you, literally or figuratively, can give you the courage to do so.
My coach, Rich Litvin, was conducting a live webinar on building a coaching practice. He had accepted a question from one of the participants. Rich started to dig into the question with this student, and it was clear to all of us listening in that the student was not engaged in the conversation. You could hear him typing in the background, and he was slow to respond to Rich’s questions. After a few minutes, Rich asked the guy to stop typing and give his full attention. I was stunned. It was exactly what I was thinking, but Rich actually said it. The guy stopped typing and agreed to get present with Rich.
Once the webinar was over, I sent a message to Rich acknowledging him for gently confronting that student about not being present during the webinar. I shared that it really landed with me because I have such difficulty calling people out their behavior. His reply was to let me see “behind the kimono”. He told me that his team had instant messaged him that the guy was not really engaged. Rich said that even though he feared offending the guy, he decided to do the scary thing and ask him to be present. Rich acknowledged that it was super edgy for him.
When someone shares with you how scary something is for them, it helps you to find the courage to do the same thing. Courage is the result of doing scary stuff. Therefore, finding a tribe where you can discuss these fears and challenges is critical to being courageous. Being a part of Rich’s community allows me to expose my vulnerabilities. You know you belong when you can feel safe to be vulnerable.
When I think of unconditional love, I immediately think of parenting. I didn’t really understand what it meant to love someone unconditionally until I had children. The beauty of unconditional love is that you have to be able to love yourself unconditionally before you can offer it to anyone else. It also offers both opportunity and motivation to find a way to love yourself if you don’t already.
When my kids came along, the intensity of the love I had for them confused me. There were times that I swear my heart hurt with how much I loved them. It was the reason that I wanted to be a better mother, better wife, and better person. I sought the help and support of people who would teach me to be kind to myself, to listen to the wise voice in my head and to accept myself fully. When I did this, my love for my children grew exponentially. By loving my whole self, I could give even more love to them.
I am in Alanon, which is a support group for friends and family members of alcoholics. It was in this group that I learned how to love people other than my children unconditionally. Week after week, I would attend the Alanon meetings. When people are impacted by their loved one’s addiction, it is an agonizing place to be. Having a place to work through those emotions has the power to change people’s lives. The beauty of Alanon is that we are a group of strangers who gather for a single reason. The structure of the program offers us a safe container.
One of the sentences that we read at each Alanon meeting is:
“While you may not like every one of us, you will learn to love each of us in a very special way, the same way we already love you.”
Being a member of this group for years has shown me how to love unconditionally. When people hurt or betray me, I can still find a way to love them. It seems like because I can now do it, I attract others who can do it as well. The people I choose to hang out with can love me unconditionally, which offers a level of belonging that satisfies me in an almost primal way. You know you belong when you can love someone unconditionally and you can receive their unconditional love.
As a child who was consistently let down by the people in my family, I learned very early that nobody had my back. It meant that I couldn’t think about my own needs. I had to be willing to go with the flow. I couldn’t ask for too much. I had to give way to what others wanted. It was too difficult to ask for what I wanted and be denied or rejected. I developed a way of being a low-maintenance friend and family member. If I didn’t rock the boat, then I could be a part of the clan.
When I married at 25, I was adamant that I would never depend on my husband. I watched my mother, who was dependent upon my father, lose herself when they divorced. Throughout most of my life, she reminded me to be able to support myself so nobody could ever screw me over. With that in mind, I set about to take total control of my marriage. I purchased our first home. I was in charge of our finances. I determined whether or not we went on vacations, for how long and where. When the kids came, I went into hyper-control mode. I determined the schedules, where they went for day care, what they ate, how they were disciplined. Guess what? I secretly resented my husband for not stepping up and not taking more responsibility. How could he? I wouldn’t let him. So my self-righteous victimhood continued.
When my daughter was 4 years old, I got into a car accident with her in the car. I rear ended the car in front of me sending him over the center line where he was struck head on by another car. It was awful. Neither of the other drivers was wearing a seat belt, so there were very significant injuries. A woman pulled over to help and called 911. She then came up to me and asked if she could call someone for me. At first, the question seemed ludicrous. Why would I need someone? I don’t need anyone. It’s how I’ve designed my life. In that moment, I felt a gentle nudging to consider her question. I thought maybe I’d give my husband the chance to be there for me. It was hard for me to ask him. What if he said he couldn’t leave work? What if he said he would talk to me about when he got home from work? What if I wasn’t important enough for him? Thankfully, he dropped everything and rushed to be with my daughter and me.
See, the whole reason I never asked for help is that many times I received a no. Rejection hurts. Not being important enough hurts. Not mattering hurts. It reinforces that nobody has my back. It motivated me to live a life where I never depended on anyone. I assumed that asking was the risky thing. But what was I risking by never asking?
From that moment forward, I started to ask my husband for more and more. Just show up for me. For us. He rose to the challenge and felt much more connected to me as a result. Now, we are completely interdependent upon each other and there is no question that he has my back and I have his. By modeling this behavior with our kids, they have learned to play the have your back game too. When we have big issues in our family, the four of us can count on each other. You know you belong when you have their back and they have yours.
What holds us back from belonging is fear, which can look like resistance. It is useful to explore where the resistance originates. For me, my resistance to taking off my mask so I could belong starts with my fear of rejection. This fear originated in my formative years where my requests for help did not get fulfilled. I was also taught that asking for help was weak. Instead, we just worked harder and muscled through. When I brought that mindset into my marriage, I didn’t honor myself or my husband. If I had to ask for help, it meant I had to be vulnerable, which opened me up to rejection, which hurt like heck. I have clients who resist making more money, asking for help, letting go of control. Resistance is the wake-up call that there’s something to overcome. There is some story where the resistance lives, and shining a light on it can uncover a lifelong struggle to be freed.
Here are six statements to help determine if we have true belonging.