I have always felt out of place. My entire life I have struggled to find a sense of belonging, a group of people with which I felt wanted, where my presence was desired instead of tolerated. I am a puzzle piece forever in the wrong box.
A “plus one.”
I don’t know how it became instilled in me, this sense that everybody in the room was secretly whispering to each other about me, asking each other why I was there in the first place. I had it relatively easy– I wasn’t bullied, I wasn’t picked on, nobody was ever outright mean to me and for that I’m grateful.
Discovering music and the scene that surrounds it has led me to some of the most incredible and welcoming people that I have ever met. We stood on the same common ground, our edges and our colors seemed to match. But I couldn’t shake the continuous looping thought that although these people might like me, that didn’t translate into people wanting me to be around. I hated walking into circles of friends that were conversing because now these people would have to deal with me amongst their actual friends.
A “plus one”
It is possible to be in a room filled with people and feel like you are completely alone. It is possible to be standing two feet away from somebody in a conversation and feel like it is a million miles. It is possible for people to be welcoming and great and amazing and to still feel like you’re unwanted because if for 19 years nobody has wanted you around why would people start now, in this incredible community?
I stand and I smile and I laugh. I look around at everybody else, all of these other puzzle pieces that are standing and smiling and laughing, trying to see where I fit without jamming my corners or folding my edges. To find a picture that I feel like I have an important part in completing, in making whole.
To feel like I am necessary.