All my life I’ve wanted one thing – to belong. Desiring love and belonging is to be human. We are wired for connection. So much so, that we often abandon ourselves out of fear of not belonging, being seen, or accepted.
I don’t know if feeling like I didn't belong, to any place, or to anyone, is a core wound that I entered this world with, or one that I picked up somewhere along the way. Either way, for as long as I can remember it’s been simultaneously my strongest desire and my deepest insecurity.
From this wounding emerged a self-preservation and protection instinct to cherry-pick the parts of myself that I perceived would be accepted so that I could fit in with the group. Growing up I went to two elementary schools, three middle schools (yep, I moved schools each grade), two high schools, and two colleges. I learned to adapt as a survival instinct.
I became a social chameleon of sorts, so fearful of not having any friends, that I only showed fragmented parts, never fully owning all of myself. I didn’t know then what I know now – you will find the right people, and when you do, they will see, value and appreciate you. Not for what you do, the kind of music you listen to, the movies you have and haven’t seen or the clothes that you wear – but for all of who you are.
“You are only free when you realize you belong no place – you belong every place – no place at all. The price is high. The reward is great." - Maya Angelou
Returning
The other night, while out with a group of people I was meeting for the first time, I noticed myself feeling really grounded. I didn’t feel the need to compartmentalize pieces of myself. When asked a question about myself, I answered truthfully and wholly, instead of filtering my response through where I anticipated we would share commonality. It sounds like a small insignificant moment, but for me, it allowed me to acknowledge my own growth.
I wish I could pinpoint the exact moment when it clicked for me. When I began to shift my focus from seeking temporary shelter in other people to cultivating a home within myself. There wasn’t a singular revelatory moment, rather a series of small ones that served as reminders, glimpses into the alluring possibility of creating belonging within my own being.
There is one period of time in particular that was hugely impactful. Last fall, I completed my 200 hour yoga teacher training, and it was the first time that I truly faced myself. I held up the mirror and examined the fragmented pieces that I had learned to ignore and just accepted would always be there, memorizing their grooves.
Spending that amount of time in your body and with your breath forces you to confront the parts of yourself that are edgy and dense. I moved through the sticky emotions held in my body with the nourishing agent of my breath. Experiencing that alongside other seekers that found themselves drawn to this practice, mirroring and holding each other, created a portal of love and expansion that rewired me completely. I’m still integrating all that our time together offered me, the seeds that were planted, the knowledge, wisdom and compassion gained. I am deeply grateful.
Evolving
The safety and trust that I’ve cultivated within myself is beginning to be reflected in my relationships in a really beautiful way. I often find myself struck with awe at the humans that I see when I look to my left and to my right. The ones that put my nervous system at ease and time seems to stand still when we’re together.
Our relationships with ourselves are the blueprint for our relationships with others. To belong first to ourselves, to commit to continually learning and loving ourselves fully, allows us to show up vulnerably and courageously in our relationships with others, without expectation. It’s only then, that we can begin to experience each other from a place of curiosity and joy instead of reliance and escape.
Sometimes I find it the most difficult to be my full authentic self in my longest relationships, because they have been with every version of me. Other times I’m surprised by our intertwined journeys. Marveling at the way they curve and bend, ebb and flow, like a dance. Then there are the relationships that simply can't hold the many evolutions and iterations of you – they were never meant to.
The more intimate I become with all of who I am and all of who I’m becoming, the more I attract the souls that are meant to journey through this life with me. Even you, reading this. Here we are, finding each other, again, or perhaps for the very first time. It feels good, doesn’t it?
Becoming
I wish I could tell my younger self that she didn’t have to shape-shift to fit in. I wish I could save her from the hurt of abandoning herself and the years of excavation that followed. But despite its origin, my mutability is what I believe to be one of my greatest strengths. Put me in a room with all kinds of people from different walks of life and I will leave having found something in common with each and every one of them. I am the summation of my experiences, patterns and behaviors, even, especially, the painful ones.
I’m still learning the boundaries of compromise and abandonment. Where do I end and others begin? What feels generous and what feels self-sacrificing? When do I need to explain myself and when is an explanation not necessary?
I am still on the path of self-discovery, self-acceptance, and self-love. I’m learning to have grace for every version, form and iteration that I’ve met on the way home. I look forward to meeting the woman ahead. I am present with the woman who is here and now.
Thank you for reading, sharing your presence, and choosing to spend your time in contemplation and connection with me. I have been overwhelmed by the outpouring of support on this project. I am so excited to continue this exploration with you.
Take care,
Asha Nia
This came right on time.❤️
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