I am going to tell you a story. Once upon a time, there was a little girl that had a hard time making friends. In school, she was the “nice girl” that all the parents wanted their children to be friends with in hopes that she would be a good influence on them. She was a rules follower, respectful and loved to learn; therefore her teachers loved her. She even got along with most of the kids in her class too, but didn’t feel like she belonged or that anyone really wanted to be her friend as much as she did theirs. She would see certain groups of girls all huddled together everyday. They never went anywhere without each other. They played together, ate their Lunchables together and slept over each others houses. Her heart longed to be a part of a group like that. She wanted to know her place and to feel connected.
Fast forward through elementary, middle school, high school, college. Yes, she was blessed to have at least one or two friends for each season of life, but she still struggled. Difficult experiences in friendships started to cement her working theory that maybe she wasn’t meant to belong or that she should hide herself in order to fit in. The voices of friends who told her that they wanted to have a positive and good day after she shared something hard and vulnerable nagged her to go deeper into her shell.
“Wow! Who is this sad girl?” you ask. You guessed it. It’s me! All my life I have struggled to “fit in.” At times as an awkward introvert, people’s first impression of me is just that: awkward. Throughout my life I have been dismissed as being intense more times than I can count. Now I can laugh about it but have often times felt misunderstood.
I can remember all of my pent up, unvoiced emotions concerning all this coming to a head when I was about 21 at an internship for the summer. We were at a teaching time, and the topic was on friendship and community. The speaker emphasized good community being a key component to serving God without burning out and to being a healthy individual. He said that we were made for community and encouraged us to make a list of two or three people with whom we could share what we had learned once we returned home. It was all I could do to sit through the whole session because it felt like someone was pressing on a wound. I left that session when it was finished and balled my eyes out. Why did it have to come around to that, a place I felt so bankrupt in? Did I have people at home that I surrounded myself with? Sure, but I didn’t feel truly known by them.
For what seemed like the first time, I sat with my disappointment and took an honest look at my expectations, hopes and fears in relationships and my desire to belong. It felt so raw but good. I even had honest conversations with God about how I thought it unfair for Him to keep calling me to community without giving me any direction on how to do that (He was. I just didn’t perceive it), especially when what I was doing was obviously not helping me procure “my spot.” After I vented for a while, I got quiet and remember Him speaking to me a phrase I have mentioned in other blogs that has continued to resurface over the years. He said, “Home is where I am with you.” And all of a sudden peace flooded my soul, everything made sense, and I never struggled with a sense of belonging again. Right? Wrong. I felt comforted by the reminder that the Maker of all things walks with me and that His presence is the ultimate sense of home, but change didn’t happen overnight. It was the start of a nine year journey of working that out. Nine years because I am thirty and still working that out.
What that moment introduced to me was the thought that in Jesus I have everything I need to truly belong anytime, anywhere. The sense of home I experienced doesn’t have to be ruled by relational circumstances. I don’t need permission to be myself. I don’t have to hide. I was and always will be known fully and loved by God, and because of that I can be vulnerable with others and don‘t have to hide. I can walk into situations knowing that my worth cannot be detracted from. My integrity doesn’t have to feel threatened by the wave of people’s opinions. I belong. I have a place.
It has been quite the journey. I am still learning so much including relational skills, honesty and healthy expectations and boundaries. However, I am learning to own and enjoy who God has made me to be, regardless of the outcome. I am becoming myself, and it feels good to be outside of my shell.
--Sophia Howard
