Do you ever feel out of place? Awkward? Like you don’t belong? I do. I’ve been a wallflower most of my life. I’m no doubt a bookworm and certainly an introvert. Nine times out of ten, I much prefer watching the people, places, and things around me to standing in the light and participating. But, it’s more than that awkward middle school phase where you’re the one kid without a group of friends to hang out with. It’s more than the high school outcast or even the shy college kid. There’s more to this feeling that I just don’t belong here.

I know I’m not the only kid who turned to books for an escape or who preferred toys to real people. I’m sure many of you felt at some point that distinct pang in your chest when you realized you weren’t like everyone else. Well, guess what, no one’s like everyone else. We’re all too different, too unique. Sure, many people are alike in many ways. Sure, we find people who share interests, physical similarities, and even personalities. But this “everyone else” is an illusion. At some point, everyone feels out of place.

Our society has created this desire, this urge to fit in with a group. The school cultures aren’t the only places people are encouraged to “fit in.” Think about it. People at work have their subgroups. People in churches do too. Anytime you move, some neighbors hang out and others don’t. It’s something built into our human nature, but I think it’s something that’s partially be skewed a little.

I believe we are creatures of community. We were created to commune with one another, to have relationship with each other, and to live as a group of people. We weren’t meant to be alone. We’re not designed for isolation. Not as a way of life. But, we’ve screwed the lid down so tight that the pressure to be in the right group is killing us! We’re so concerned with fitting in, being normal, not sticking out, not drawing undue attention to ourselves that we’ve created little monsters.

Furthermore, we aren’t supposed to fit into this broken world. Our spirits aren’t from here! There’s a reason I feel out of place here on this earth. There’s a reason that small tug in me makes me shift uncomfortably from one foot to another. The spirit that lives in me doesn’t belong here. That’s why I don’t fit in. If I’m completely comfortable here, that makes this place my home. And I can tell you right now, this is not my home.

What is a home? This is a question I’ve asked more than once. Some people have grown up in the house they were born in, spent their whole lives in one town. Even some of the people who have traveled to great places have lived in one place all their lives. On the other end of the spectrum, there are people who have never had the same home, or even a home at all. There are many homeless people in our world. There are kids who have been abandoned or who grew up in the foster care system. There are military families who move every couple of years when they are re-stationed. How many different iterations of “home” can you think of?

I kind of land somewhere in between. I’ve always had a place to live, but that place wasn’t always the same. I’ve moved around a lot, but I’m not a military brat. I’ve never been homeless, but I have had guardians who weren’t my parents before. I’m a bit of a mutt. I’ve lived in three different states and traveled frequently to even more. I’m a gypsy. Not by blood or heritage, but by lifestyle. Consequently, I’ve kind of always struggled with the idea of home.

I hate the question “Where are you from?” People ask this when they first meet each other. It’s a standard get-to-know-you question, right there next to “What do you do for a living?” and “How big is your family?” You know those ice breaker games they made you play in school or at church? What’s your favorite color? How old are you? Do you play any sports? Where are you from?

For many years, I didn’t know how to answer that. To this day, I wince when someone asks and hesitate before I reply. My default answer has often been, “Oh, a little bit of everywhere” or some variation thereof. Even as a freshman in college (the worst place for ice breakers and invasive questions! XD), I was struck by the significance of “home” and what it meant. It was so important to me because I was such an outsider and because I’d moved around so much. Because I am a gypsy and because I struggle to pinpoint where I come from to a single place, home is a big deal to me.

Even if you’ve had a stable, constant home all your life, when you move out to go to college and/or start your career as an adult, your world kind of turns upside down. At some point, you have to leave the nest and then you enter into this strange…limbo…sort of period. Home isn’t really home anymore, but college isn’t truly your home either. It’s the weirdest feeling to return to the house you’ve lived for years and realize that you feel out of place. It kind of hurts a little, like a growing pain. It’s confusing and disorienting. It makes you question many things about yourself; who you are, where you’re from, where you belong. Everything you thought you knew feels like it’s trying to crumble away. 

I’ve since graduated from college and now face the same question I did as I first entered college, but in a different form. Now, I get to choose where I want to make my home. I don’t belong home with my parents anymore. College was quite clearly a temporary home. And I’m not at the point in my life yet where I will make a home for my own family. But, somehow, I still have to make a place my home.

I’ve never felt like I’ve belonged anywhere. I’ve had one church home that I grew to love and adore, a place I felt more at home than any other, but even that is gone now. I know I’m different. I go against the norm. And I’m okay with that. I’m at home with who I am. I’ve learned Whose I am and that gives me peace. I’m currently looking for a physical place to call home, an apartment and a new job. I know, one day, I’ll have a home in heaven, and finally, my spirit will be in a place where I belong.

There are so many different ways to feel at home and to belong, to fit in or be at ease. It’s difficult to get to a place where you are completely comfortable with who you are, where you belong, and what you’re supposed to do with your life. How do you cope with feeling left out? Have you ever found a place that you can completely relax in? What group of people do you call your true friends? When and where do you feel most at home?

Love always,
Coralie

Home by Christ Tomlin

And a few repeats from a few weeks ago 😀

Where I Belong by Building 429

Road to Zion and Not of This World by Petra