Thwarted Belonging

Three diverse people share a warm group hug beneath the title “Thwarted Belonging” by Hannah Smith.

Thwarted belonging. I’d love to claim this phrase as my own but I came across it recently in some training – sadly there’s no obvious author to credit, so apologies for not being able to do so.

I read this phrase and felt it deeply. It completely resonates with me and a huge amount of my own experience throughout my life.

I’m not a hugely sociable person, and would often self-describe in the past as shy or introverted. I’ve never wanted or needed a huge social circle, but I’ve often felt lonely, isolated and on the outside looking in. Because I’ve always wanted to feel like I belonged somewhere, and it is a feeling I have found hard to attain.

I imagine this is a common feeling for autistic folk. We often have to mask heavily in order to feel accepted – and this leads to feelings of not really belonging. Because how much do you really belong if people like the masked version of you rather than your authentic self? We’re often huge people pleasers, and again, how much do you really belong if the main reason you’re liked or included is because you’re known for always saying yes, never asking for anything, never making a fuss and always going along with whatever everyone else wants? Yes, you’re included, but does it feel like true belonging?

A sense of belonging isn’t just about being included, about being invited, about being tolerated. It’s about a genuine feeling of safety, of being able to be yourself and being liked, perhaps even loved for exactly who you are. This is elusive for many autistic folk.

As an autistic person I may have a different type of sociality, I may have different social needs and I certainly have a significantly smaller social battery, but I crave connection and belonging, and not being able to find this has led to significant feelings of loneliness and low self-esteem throughout my life.

Trying desperately as a child to make myself likeable and tolerable to my peers was exhausting, and while I did form friendships, these were often intense but short-lived, falling apart when I inevitably made some horrendous social faux pas or simply showed too much of myself.

Growing up, as a teen, fitting in was everything, and became harder at exactly the same time as it became significantly more vital to surviving the complex social world around me.

As an adult, I’ve often felt deeply embarrassed by the fact that I don’t really have friendships in the ‘usual’ sense. I have people I know, acquaintances, colleagues, people I’m friendly with, but these are very rarely people I’d feel comfortable being fully myself around. And often these delicate connections quickly fall apart or I simply lose the energy to maintain them.

As I’ve got older and grown a better and deeper understanding of myself, I’ve been able to build connections that feel genuine and provide me with this sense of belonging, and it’s not hyperbole to say this has been life-changing.

I know now the difference between fitting in and belonging, and while there are times it’s necessary and even useful to simply fit in, I try to reduce the amount of time I spend doing this, as it’s simply draining.

Finding people who genuinely accept me for who I am has helped me finally find a sense of belonging, albeit different to what I was brought up to expect, and what the ‘norm’ in society often looks like. It’s not a huge, or even a small, circle of friends. It’s a very few people. But it’s enough for me because it feels real and provides a place for me to return to and feel safe when the rest of the world often doesn’t.

It’s also more than simply other people I can talk with and be around. I’ve also found a sense of belonging through the stories of others, even when I have no contact with those people myself. Perhaps that sounds strange – how can you feel you belong with people who don’t even know you exist? But that is absolutely the case with many writers, podcasters and people who have shared their own stories and experiences in written or spoken word. Their work and their openness have provided me with the knowledge that I’m not alone in my experiences and has made me feel seen.

So, perhaps I’m moving away from my sense of belonging being thwarted, and finding small pockets of belonging which provide safety, comfort and have, as a very pleasant side effect, removed at least a few of the dints in my self-esteem.