I’ve never really belonged.
Not in the dramatic, “nobody understands me” way. More in the quiet, lifelong way—like I’ve always been standing half a step outside of whatever circle I’m supposed to slide into.
It started simply: I was a shy kid.
Then I became the weird horse girl. (Still am…) Then I was the homeschooled weird horse girl, which is… a cringey niche within a niche. Then as a very young twenty-something, I was building compost piles while everyone else was sowing their wild oats.
Then I became a mother and no matter how much I tried, I was a little too feral for the normal mom groups, the tidy homeschool co-ops, or whatever prescribed boxes moms are supposed to fit in.
Then I became an entrepreneur and started attending conferences and networking groups. I could talk shop with the best of them, but I also grow tomatoes and live in the middle of nowhere… Which makes me a bit of an anomaly in rooms full of condo-dwellers wearing watches that cost more than my first saddle.
I’ve spent many years being “too much” for one crowd and “not enough” for another. Too spiritual for the non-religious folks, but too sharp-edged for the churchy ones. Too conservative for the progressives, too progressive for the conservatives. Always just slightly out of step.
And now, even in the homestead world—the place where, for a short season, I had nearly complete belonging—I find myself unmoored.
Not because I stopped loving the work. I still love the bread and the dirt and the rhythm of it all.
But I don’t align with the new ideology that seems to have the movement in a stranglehold. And so, where I was once comfortably in the middle, I’m now on the outskirts once again….
Now I want to say this next part clearly: I’m not telling you this for pity.
I’m not fishing for reassurance or asking for a seat at anyone’s table.
I’m telling you because I’ve finally realized something that would have shocked my younger self:
Not belonging isn’t a problem.
It’s an invitation.
Because yes… once upon a time, I did feel sorry for myself.
I thought not belonging meant something was wrong with me. Like I had missed a class everyone else attended called How to Be Normal and Like It. I assumed when I found the right group, the right label, the right lane, then I could finally relax.
But I don’t believe that anymore. Not even a little bit.
Now I understand, deeply, that not belonging is a gift.
It’s a a strange one at first. It doesn’t come wrapped in shiny paper. And you may even try to return it.
But it’s a gift nonetheless.
It has taught me bravery.
It’s taught me how to enjoy my own company.
It’s taught me to like what I really like—not just what makes me more palatable, more trendy, or less wave-making.
But perhaps the biggest gift in it all is this:
It has given me freedom.
Freedom from the exhausting need for approval.
Freedom from changing like a chameleon in an attempt to fit whatever room I’m in at the moment.
Freedom from comparing my body or my weight or my hair or my nails to whoever is around me.
Freedom to forge my own path, even when it makes absolutely no sense to the people around me.
Forty years in, this freedom has become such a way of life that I cannot fathom trying to smoosh myself to ever fit into someone else’s box ever again.
A couple of weeks ago I wrote about this, and so many of you replied to say, “Me too.”
And it made me suspect that many of us are quietly convinced everyone else has it figured out… even when no one really does.
And what if…. this lack of fitting in isn’t a weakness after all? What if it’s a superpower?
Years ago I found Maya Angelou’s famous line on belonging and I printed it off and taped it to my fridge so I could see it everyday:
The quote didn’t make sense to me at first. Especially with all the trendy talk about community and finding people to “do life with…” I had to wrestle with it for a while.
But you see, the rewards are indeed great.
The reward looks like the day you stop looking for permission.
The day you stop outsourcing your identity.
The day you stop waiting for the crowd to validate the life you’re building.
The day you realize you are… oddly unstoppable.
Not because life gets easier, but because you stop needing the crowd to agree with you before you move.
Because maybe if the paths we’re on are paved and obvious—maybe it’s not really our path after all.
That’s what I’m determined to teach my kids: you don’t have to shrink yourself to belong. You don’t have to sand down your edges to be loved. You don’t need the approval of the crowd to be safe.
The other day my son came home from school and told me the kids were making fun of him for wearing his wild rag (a silk cowboy scarf).
I asked him how he felt about it, and he said, “Well, I like wearing it, and I think it looks good.”
“Then buddy,” I replied, “You wear whatever the hell you want.”
(And yes, I said hell because I am that mom…)
And the most delicious, rebellious smile crossed his face, and I knew he had heard me.
If I give anything to my children as they fly the nest, let it be that message.
Not “find your people.”
Not “make yourself fit.”
But: belong to yourself first.
Because when you belong to yourself, you can walk into any room and not hand your worth over to it.
You can build a life that looks strange from the outside, but feels like peace from the inside.
And maybe that’s the real magic of not belonging:
It forces you to grow your own roots.
To stop reaching outward for permission.
To learn how to fully trust your inner yes… and your inner no.
So if you’ve been feeling like you don’t fit… maybe you’re not broken.
Maybe you’re being freed.
Because the magical life you’re truly meant to build was never going to fit in anyone else’s box anyway. ??
-Jill
I am loving your posts!!!! Thanks for sharing your thoughts. It’s helping me to be okay with breaking free from the ridiculous boxes we put ourselves into or allow ourselves to be put into.
I’m so glad my post resonated with you! 🙂
I could have written this.
Your text, your thoughts – straight into my soul.
I also never belonged.
It was a hard way, for a long time it was all I wanted, belonging somewhere, be part of a community.
But now I learned to just be me.
Thank you <3
I’m glad my words resonated with you. Please know that I’m rooting for you in your own personal journey. Being yourself is powerful and inspiring.
Thank you, Jill. Totally resonated. Yes to all that. My oldest sister said, “Wait til you turn 40. You won’t care anymore what people think about you.” Then a friend said, “Oh wait til you turn 50!! You’ll TELL THEM you don’t care”. FREEDOM ?. Joy. It has gotten me in trouble a few times in the last decade…. And I’m fine with that. Jennifer
Love your article! I, too, never felt like I belonged and oh, I wanted to so badly. I was shy and a bit hesitant about things. I always wanted to be like the world. Now, I am glad that I am me and NOT like the world, and I like me! If there is something I don’t like about myself, I can change it without worrying about fitting in. And… I like wild rags! They are cool and useful living the ranch life! Spot on, Jill.
This is so good! I have often felt broken for not “fitting in” with a group, but I wasn’t willing to bend my ways just to fit the mold. I enjoy reading your blogs!
I’m so glad you are enjoying reading my blog! (And I’m glad that I’m not the only one struggling with ‘fitting in’…)
YES!!
Few things are as inspiring & encouraging as watching someone move beyond fitting in and fully step into their personal power. It’s contagious, in the most beneficial way.
Make that wild rag cool BW
Thank you Jill and Maya too
Love! Love! Love!
Made me tear up. Felt this way my whole life.
Couldn’t understand it. Always lonely.
I’m finally okay with it all at 61 years old!
So encouraging. Thank you for writing these posts and for being you!
Aw, you’re welcome! I’m so glad my words resonated with you. 🙂 Thank you for being YOU!
Thank you. This speaks to my very soul. I immediately sent it to a few friends, family and co-workers. You described “me” better than I could have.
I’m so glad you enjoyed this post! And thank you for sharing it with your people! 🙂
About two hours ago, I wrote in my journal about no longer wanting to fit in and finding absolute freedom in giving myself permission to do this. Then your blog arrives in my inbox. This is all very validating. Cheers to true freedom! Love your blog!
Yay! Great minds think alike! 🙂
I’ve been where you live, the wild rag is a necessity and a smart move!
I like how you say it like it is. Always had a lot of respect for someone who spoke up & was straightforward without being mean or brash. Coming from a family with little money & an alcoholic father but a loving mother, I was always trying to fit in. As I got older with 5 siblings who all are non drinkers, raising loving & caring families I no longer care about fitting in. We can all hold our heads high & are there for each other in joyful & the rough times. We have achieved on our own. Your blog was a great reminder to just move forward & be yourself.
Oh I am so enjoying reading your posts, it’s like they were written for me. So much of what you are writing about parallels what I am going through. Thank you so much for sharing.
I love this! THANK YOU! You are saying what I didn’t know I wanted to say myself- it is almost as if we are given permission to be ourselves when the rest of the world is “saying” that while not really meaning it and living it! It rare to find real any more- so thank you for being REAL.
I’m actually crying because I’ve never felt more heard. I’ve always been wildly capable and could outsmart, outwork, and love harder than most people I know – but I still never fit in. For a while I wondered if i was on the spectrum but you just validated so hard what I needed to hear 15 years ago.
I’m so glad my post resonated with you! And I’m glad that I’m not the only one with these struggles. Please know that I’m rooting for you!
From one who has never felt that they “belonged” to another, this really resonates with me, thank you!
Yay Jill!
Beautiful, lovely sentiment, spot on! Ty!
This truly resonated with me. Though I may look conventional from a distance, I’ve never fit in anywhere. And as people get to know me, they get weirded out by my weirdness. As you said, both too much, and not enough. Someone from college (over 40 years ago) recently said to me when catching up on the years gone by, “I always knew you had your freak card.”
And you’re right, though it is sometimes lonely, there is freedom in ceasing to care what others think, and doing whatever the hell you want. Good for you for teaching that to your children.
Reading some of the comments, confirms for me that these are the places you find community. I have always felt the same. Didn’t belong in my own family sometimes. Now I have the little farmstead. I do the wonderful crazy homestead things like butchering our own meat. And making cheese. Things most people outsource. But I had a baby in the last year, and I will tell you that showed me how much community we actually have. Finally, in the last few years I have found community. And its not that we are all exactly alike, or that we even enjoy the same things. But we have one commonality that brought us together and many of those people would drop anything to come help if I asked for it. That to me is community. Knowing I have people I can call when I need them. Not necessarily a group of people that would all be the same in a room together, but a group of individuals who have enough (or only just one person) in common that they would come together when asked. I think the differences among a community actually adds to it, then there is room for us to learn from each other. ?
Wow that is/was me in a nutshell. Was never “normal “. Was a tomboy through and through. Beat all the boys arm wrestling, could out throw them in the softball throw at field day, didn’t wear dresses, make up. Didn’t smoke or drink alcohol so didn’t fit in ANY groups at school, don’t beat around the bush when I say something- to which I have been told that I am too blunt. I figure the truth is the truth. Why sugar coat it.
Love your posts.
Stay strong. Stay true to yourself
Jill, you are blessed in being able to express what so many of us feel and experience. Imagine being active duty AF for 20 years and having to accept compliance to exist within that system. Perhaps that is why I raced stockcars and managed to have Paints outside of duty. That saved my sanity. Now I am 79 and the wife and I are retired and ride Harleys from FL to Calgary, up the Pacific Coast Highway and Mt Washington. We have seen a very huge chunk of America and don’t even try to fit in. But we have an amazing collection of friends and cohorts. We can enjoy riding with 16 friends on 8,000 mile rides or just us down Highway One to Key West and soak in all this amazing county has to offer. Rodeos in Cody or Cheyenne to Inaugurals in DC. Yet we don’t have to settle or fit in any one hole. Life is good, pray for our country and mankind. You please keep sharing your thoughts and perspectives.
So well spoken to the truth of life. Coming up on 62, I have lived most of my life with that feeling of not belonging except one place, alive in nature and I was completely okay with that. However, I was diverted off course for a time when diving into that network marketing arena that never felt aligned. You were one of the people I think I felt most drawn to during that time and probably because of your true nature shining through. I’m grateful to have been connected and now grateful over the last few years to have found myself again, living on my own terms, loving my uniqueness, and letting my calling unfold as it should, in the right time.
Here’s to not belonging and proud of it!
Yes! Please know that I’m rooting for you on your own journey of learning to live on your own terms!
I think the “not fitting in” or fears that you’re not connecting with most is very primal, because it’s a need to be accepted and loved and cared for because back when we lived in caves you’d die in the wilderness if you had no protection. So I try to shake any fear like that off immediately. But anyway, I found your crusty Dutch oven bread on line, and it failed miserably with Walmart flour and turned into Focaccia bread! Which lead me to your book! I saw you make chicken stock in the crock pot like I do and realized you are a kindred spirit. I’m on the edge of the earth in the panhandle of Florida one mile from the Gulf and believe me, I feel I am as far away from civilization as you do! You’re an inspiration as I start again with decent flour and collect a jar that will work for a sour dough starter! Girl, you are amazing!
I love your way to taking a failed bread and turning into something else! How creative! And I’m glad to have you as a kindred spirit! I’m wishing you the best!