“We shall not cease from exploration / And the end of all our exploring / Will be to arrive where we started / And know the place for the first time.” — T.S. Eliot
This week, I found myself in a circle of women, sharing stories that had rarely been spoken aloud. We were exploring belonging — not the surface-level fitting in we often mistake for it, but the deeper sense of home we carry within ourselves.
In our breakout session, four women shared their ancestral stories. Our families had immigrated from Norway, China, Iran, and Eastern Europe. Four different religions, traditions, and cultures, yet all with one haunting commonality: our families had to flee. They left everything familiar behind to find safety somewhere else, to give us a better life.
The Inheritance We Didn’t Ask For
These family stories are often left untold. Too painful to remember, too awful to share, no point in wallowing in the past. But as descendants, we inherited more than we realized. We inherited the isolation, the fear, the experience of being othered. We also inherited something beautiful: the ability to adapt and survive.
Yet there’s a shadow side to this inheritance. In the homes where each of us was raised, we discovered the same phenomenon — we needed to do something to feel worthy of love, safety, and belonging.
I needed to be winning.
I needed to be okay because the spot of not okay was occupied by another sibling.
I needed to care for others and be the responsible one.
I needed to be perfect.
I needed to be pretty.
Those who came before us needed to do something to belong too. In the case of my family, they sometimes had to pretend we were something other than what we were. This isn’t the fault of our families — they were passing on what they knew. This is how you stay safe.
The Difference Between Fitting In and Belonging
In those early years, we wired our brains to believe that certain behavior was required to belong, and to belong was to be safe. But what we were really being taught was how to fit in. And fitting in is not belonging.
Our brains, desperate to make sense of the world as quickly as possible, construct narratives and then keep reinforcing them:
To belong, I must be winning.
To belong, I must be okay because others are not okay.
To belong, I must be the responsible one.
To belong, I must be perfect.
To belong, I must be pretty.
We don’t often stop to ask: Is this story I’m telling myself serving me? Do I really need to please others to belong? Or might there be a better story that supports me in creating the life I most want to live?
Belonging to Self First
I choose now to believe that we all come from a universal Source of love and energy. I choose to believe that we are born deserving love, safety, and belonging. But that belief is sometimes hard to hold when it wasn’t the lived experience of our ancestors, and therefore not our lived experience.
This is why it starts with belonging to self. Unconditional love and radical self-compassion that is contingent on absolutely nothing.
I’m convinced that this is what is meant by “fix your own oxygen mask first.” If you cannot wholly embrace yourself and believe you are worthy and deserving of love, safety, and belonging without needing to do anything to deserve it, you may spend your life in the unfulfilling and unrelenting quest for external validation.
Rewriting Our Stories
Instead, try asking yourself: What would it feel like to truly belong to myself, to my family, to my community, or in any of the places where I feel connection to another?
Once you’ve identified that feeling, perhaps you can revisit your childhood stories, or the stories of your ancestors which you may know or imagine, and ask: Which stories can I tell that serve me? How can I rewire my brain?
I could tell a story of the fear and loneliness I can only imagine my great-grandmother was feeling as she traveled by herself at the age of 13 from Austria to Ellis Island, and how I feel that fear and scarcity in me even today.
Or I could tell a story of resilience — the character of a young child who not only made it to America, but went on to raise 8 children, including my grandmother, on little more than love and donated food, and how that resilience resides in me.
Both stories are true. But only one serves the life I want to create.
The Journey Home
Belonging isn’t a destination we arrive at by doing enough or achieving enough. It’s the recognition that we already are enough, that we already belong to ourselves, to something greater, to the intricate web of connection that holds us all.
This is the quiet transformation I speak of — not the dramatic overhaul that promises to fix everything, but the gentle rewiring of the stories we tell ourselves about who we are and what we deserve.
Because in the end, all our exploring will lead us back to where we started: to ourselves, to our inherent worthiness, to the belonging that was always already there, waiting to be recognized for the first time.
If you’re ready to explore your own stories of belonging and discover what it means to truly belong to yourself, I’d love to invite you to join our weekly women’s community. We gather each week to support each other in the conscious, active creation of our lives — exploring being, belonging, believing, and becoming together. Because these questions shouldn’t be explored alone. Click HERE to learn more.