As long as I can remember, I have felt like an outsider.  I’m pretty sure everyone at one point or another has felt the same way.  Out of the loop.  Not part of the ‘in-crowd’.  The last one to know anything.  I’m notoriously out of the loop, I joke that I live 3 miles outside of the infamous loop.  It’s probably more like 100.

I cannot remember the number of times I have stuck my foot squarely in my mouth because I was not in the know.  One of my more famous moments was the time I innocently asked a co-worker on Valentine’s Day what he gave his wife, and when he coldly responded with “not a thing”, I teased him about being in the doghouse.  A few moments later, a horrified witness to the conversation informed me that his wife had left him the previous week.  Yep.  Foot in mouth.  That’s me!

I would venture to guess many women can relate to the issue of not feeling like you fit in.  Maybe not.  Maybe I’m one of a select few.  I think social media just magnifies the issue.  When we see friends’ posts and pictures of their girls’ night out; references to their ‘best friends’ (that’s obviously not you); making plans with friends that somehow need to be planned publicly rather than via text; etc: it stings just a little, no matter how far removed from high school you are.  Obviously, I’m not saying nothing of the sort should be posted to social media.  I do think we need to tread carefully and take into account others’ feelings.  My daughters are of the age now where we’ve discussed how it feels to be left out and being conscientious about leaving others out.  They know that you don’t discuss plans with one friend while another is present.  I’m trying my best to teach them courtesy at an early age.

I also pray that none of my children feel like the oddball their Mommy has since early childhood.  I remember telling my Mom when I was about 7 or 8 that I pictured everyone in my class was in a circle, and I was somewhere outside of it.  It’s not like I was bullied or picked on, or anyone intentionally made me feel that way, I guess it was just my crazy feelings.  If one of my kids says they feel the same, I will cry.  And probably start saving for therapy.  Which really, I should’ve started saving for that years ago.

I think the circumstances of my family greatly contributed to my feelings of abnormal-ness (I know that’s not a word, but oh well).  My only sibling is 17 months younger than me and has severe cerebral palsy.  I’m sure there’s a personality category out there somewhere for someone in my position, but I have yet to find it.  I know there’s the standard ‘oldest child’, ‘middle child’, and ‘youngest child’, and I do fit many of the oldest child’s personality traits.  I have perfectionism down pat.  But as long as I can remember, I’ve been an expert with guilt.  I felt guilty because I was the ‘normal sibling’. My sister was (is) the purest, most kind hearted person anyone could ever meet, and I couldn’t understand why I was born healthy and she was not, when I was by far the least deserving of good health.  I tried to make up for what she couldn’t do.  I overcompensated in everything, and the pressure I put on myself was insane.  When I failed at something, the disappointment I felt was doubled because it was like I had failed for both me and her.  It followed me to college, when in my senior year, I had mapped out how much I could miss on each test and still manage a perfect GPA by graduation.  It came to a head the day I literally had a meltdown, ugly cry and all, in front of my professor after I missed one question on a midterm exam.  I remember crying into his coat as he put his arm around me and told me I needed to get some rest.  Not one of my proudest moments.

I recently confided in a sweet Mommy friend how I just felt like I was out of the loop and not fitting in anywhere, and to my shock, she said she felt the same way!  I felt like hugging her, I was just so relieved to not be the only one!  I think there’s more out there, whether it be the stay at home Mom who feels like she’s missing out not being in the loop with work friends, or the Mom who’s in the office feeling like she’s missing out by not being in on playdates.  Maybe it boils down to our insecurities.  What is it we feel like we’re missing out on?  Why do we feel so different or out of place?

I’m so glad God still loves me despite knowing every.single.thing. about me.  I’m so thankful He loves my abnormal-ness.  I love, love, love knowing that even if I was the sole person on this planet, He still would have died for me and would still love me unconditionally.  It makes living 100 miles out of the loop feel pretty insignificant.