'I don't belong here': letting go of unnecessary beliefs from my past

Being an ultimate Survivor fan, I was watching the latest series with my usual strategic eye (by which I mean I critically analyse everyone’s foibles and immediately declare, ‘I would never do that/say that/go there/get voted out if I was playing’ because obviously I’m so much smarter than every single person who’s ever been in the game).

Anyway. In one of the early episodes, I was frustrated by Vince, a competitor who was getting paranoid about being voted out. He told the camera that because he was gay and of Vietnamese descent, he had felt like an outsider his whole life. He didn’t fit in. He’d never fitted in. And now everyone was ganging up to vote him out.

Except, they weren’t.

Vince didn’t go home that episode. In fact, I don’t think he gained a vote. The editing showed other people’s names being thrown around before they blindsided an all-American girl who ‘belonged’ to the dominant culture just about as much as anyone could ever belong.

Vince wasn’t even in trouble. But he assumed he was, simply because of the belief system he carried around in his head about not fitting in and being different from everyone. Vince should have ditched his unhelpful beliefs before he went into the game because they didn’t do him any favours.

Survivor did me a good turn that night. It made me think about myself, and the beliefs I carry around about myself that might get in my way. Not in Survivor (and no, I will never play: I have a phobia of hearing other people snore at night. Like seriously, I would punch all those people in the face if I had to sleep next to them), but in life.

Like Vince, I’ve carried around the belief that ‘I don’t fit in.’ In fact, ten years ago when I was putting together my ‘About’ page on this blog, I wrote a whole essay about the fact that ‘I don’t belong here.’ I’m going to have to go and change it, because it’s simply not true any more*.

Yes, there was a time that I didn’t fit. I was an awkward third culture kid who was born in Australia and grew up in Pakistan; I didn’t know Aussie customs, I didn’t follow the right music, or dress the same way as other people. I spoke funny with a wild and woolly accent that could have come from anywhere. I said, ‘I don’t belong here’ because I was afraid, and because I was grieving deep, hard losses.

But it’s been 30 years since then. Time has marched on. Healing has happened. I’ve gotten more confident in myself, kinder to others, less worried about other people’s expectations. While I haven’t forgotten my past, my accent has adapted. I’ve learned to appreciate the harsh Australian landscape like I couldn’t before. And over the last 30 years, I’ve found friends and created communities wherever I’ve gone.

If I told my kids or my friends that I felt like I didn’t fit in, they’d look at me strangely. ‘Um, what? Mum! You can talk to literally anyone,’ my daughter said the other day when I tried it out on her. ‘That’s a weird thing to say.’

I don’t need to keep ‘I don’t belong’ as part of my identity any more. Like Vince, it doesn’t do me any good now. I do belong. I’ve always belonged. It’s just that I didn’t know it before.

So thanks, Vince, from Survivor for teaching me something important. I hope that one day, you’ll be able to see that you belong too.

*If it’s still there when you check it out, it’s probably because I haven’t been creative enough to come up with something new yet. Come back in a couple of weeks.