Just as life and people are multifaceted, so is belonging. We are all a part of many social groups and as we age and move through different stages of life, new jobs, communities, relationships, and identities, our sense of belonging shifts and changes as well. But as much as it ebbs and flows, we need belonging to ease the burden of loneliness.
Growing up, I always struggled to feel like I belonged. I remember distinct times in my life when my actions were driven by the desire to be included. I joined after-school groups and sports leagues to join others in my class. I attended youth groups every week to hang out with “the cool kids” who wouldn’t necessarily hang out with me otherwise. To give them credit though, I was an awkward kid with too much energy for my body. I just hadn’t found my people yet, people who could match my energy.
When I surrounded myself with people I could relate to, I felt like I truly belonged. I could be my full, authentic self without needing to dampen certain identities. Over time, that grew into a community that I cherish today.
But even after, when I felt that I had found my confidence and my group, there was still that lingering thought that I wasn’t meant to be there or that those around me didn’t see me as a peer.
Imposter syndrome and loneliness can sometimes be interlinked. Imposter syndrome is “when someone feels undeserving of their achievements and the high esteem in which they are generally held” (Psychology Today). If you cannot trust that you are meant to be where you are, then it is hard to trust those around you. And most people, even those with imposter syndrome, do want to trust those around them. In my case, I struggle to trust my own brain and my own joy.
In college, when I began to develop professionally and take leadership roles in my social clubs, I discovered both a deep sense of belonging and the true definition of imposter syndrome. My senior year, I was president of two student organizations, both of which felt like home. But when I started to experience imposter syndrome and I didn’t believe that I belonged there, it began to isolate me from them. I was so burnt out that I couldn’t communicate how I was feeling in a conducive way and often projected many of my fears outward. What brought me out of it and what keeps me moving forward are the people around me, those who see me and continue to remind me that I do belong.
In trying to find my sense of belonging, I’ve learned that in chasing joy and what makes me feel like me, I find others who may share that joy and relate to my struggles. When I came out as bisexual in high school, I had a handful of friends that I could confide in and who I knew saw me for all my identities. Even having that small group, in a sea of others, made it easier to be public about how I truly felt. Since then, being a part of the queer community is something I cherish deeply and fight hard for, because everyone deserves to feel community and belonging without fear.
In trying to “right” my imposter syndrome, I’ve learned it’s always an uphill battle. Perfectionism is a cause of imposter syndrome, so I must accept that I can never be “perfect” or exactly what others expect. There may always be a small feeling of imposter syndrome there, and that’s normal. I must remember to ground myself, connect to those around me, share my feelings, and give myself grace.
Throughout my life, I may lose my sense of belonging with certain groups, but I’ll gain it in others. It’s an ever-changing cycle. As I’ve gotten older, I don’t stress as much about being included, but there is always a small part of me that does. It’s all about learning to live with that feeling.
