On fitting in


If you've ever felt like the weird one, read this...

Hey Reader,

Confession: I've never really felt like I fitted in anywhere.

At school, I had one best friend at a time. And then, sooner or later, they'd find someone else. Someone better. Someone more fun, more easy, more... whatever I wasn't.

And I'd be alone again.

I was bullied. Badly. The kind that makes you believe the problem is you. I was somehow never enough. Weird. Different. An outsider.

As an adult, it got more confusing. Because I can hold a conversation with anyone. People open up to me; come to me with things they don't tell anyone else. And I'd think: maybe this time it'll be different.

But friendships still feel fragile. Like I'm always one misstep away from being too much or not enough. And I've had many friendships end.

I watch groups of friends - the ones who've known each other for years, who have in-jokes and shared history - and I feel like a child looking through a shop window at something I'm not allowed to have.

For years, I thought this meant something was wrong with me.

I'd watch other people slot into groups so easily. Find their people. Belong somewhere.

And I'd think: why can't I do that?

Somehow, I fit in everywhere - and also nowhere.

A few weeks ago, I posted about this on Threads and was surprised to find it was one of my most-engaged-with posts: it seems a LOT of people resonated with feeling weird or like you don't quite in anywhere.

Maybe you've felt this too.

Unbound Shift:

For years, I thought the answer was to find my people. My group. The place I'd finally belong. But here's what I've worked out:

Groups - the way most of them work - haven't been safe for me.

They need maintenance. Shared references. Keeping up. Being present in ways that drain me completely. And underneath all of it, that low hum of fear that I'm still about to be left.

One-to-one? That's where I come alive.

The kind of conversation where someone says what they actually mean and I can say what I actually mean back. Where there's depth, not performance.

The problem was never that I couldn't do groups; it was thinking that's the only way connection is supposed to work.

I was looking for belonging like it's a destination. A place I'd arrive at and think, "yes, this is it, I'm home."

One friend group. One community. One identity. One place where I finally, fully fit.

But that's not how I work.

I don't belong in spaces. I belong in moments.

Unbound Step:

If you've spent years feeling like you don't quite fit anywhere, try this:

Stop looking for where you belong.

Start noticing when you've felt most like yourself.

Twenty minutes. Pen and paper. Answer this:

In the past year, when did I feel most like myself?

Not "good." Not "happy." Most like yourself. Where you weren't performing or pretending or trying to be more of anything.

It might have been:

  • A conversation where you lost track of time
  • Working alone at 6am, or 11pm, when others are asleep
  • A Sunday afternoon with nothing planned and no one expecting anything

What made it different?

The pace? The depth? The lack of performance? The permission to be quiet?

What does this tell me about my conditions?

Not your personality. Your conditions (the circumstances where you don't have to pretend).

Because here's the thing: you're not broken, or weird, or lacking in some way for not fitting in everywhere.

You're just not designed to.

And once you stop trying to belong in all the places, you can start designing for the moments where you actually do.

In your corner always,

Sam 💛

Sam Sheppard

Introvert OS™

I share practical tools to help you design a life that actually fits.

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Let's connect! 👋🏻 You can find me on LinkedIn, Instagram, TikTok and Threads. Catch up with past editions on my website.

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