Finding Peace

Rejection is something I feel acutely. The first time I remember feeling like I didn’t belong was when I was in Girl Scouts as a child. All the other girls seemed to just be able to speak the same language. I remember doing crafts to get a merit badge about horses. I was frustrated that we weren’t working with actual horses. I didn’t understand why we were making things out of corn husks, going to watch other people ride horses, and why “camping” included sleeping in one big room on mattresses. I wanted to be riding horses, and taking care of horses, and I wasn’t satisfied with watching a “horse parade”. I wanted to be in the parade, riding the horse. I saw my brother going primitive camping with his Boy Scout troop and that’s what I wanted. I wanted his trips with his troop, not what we were doing. As I would look around at my fellow participants, I seemed to be the only deeply dissatisfied individual. They would all giggle and enjoyed the crafts from what I could see. They liked watching the horse parade which disappointed and saddened me. They were also all friends with each other. I wanted to be their friend but they didn’t want to be mine. I wanted to ride in a car with them to an activity and I was told that “There wasn’t room in the car”. There was a seat available.

The moment that solidified how they didn’t view me as a friend or equal happened when we were leaving a “camping” trip. We used wheelbarrows from the barn to carry our luggage. I had three girls’ luggage, which included my own, in the wheelbarrow. I offered to do the majority of the pushing because I thought it was the right to do and I was always trying to figure out how to curry favor with them. As I pushed the wheelbarrow, they walked ahead of me, arms linked around each other’s waist, and laughing. It hit me then that I would never belong in that group and no one wanted anything to do with me. When I quit Girl Scouts, I felt so relieved. I didn’t have to worry about being shut out of groups I desperately wanted to join, or so I thought. Feeling as though there were rules to everyday social engagement that I didn’t understand continued. All of this is to set up something that happened this past weekend. 

I ran into someone who I had tried to become friends with. She hadn’t returned my texts in weeks or a month. I had decided that she just was busy or not feeling up to responding. I was out with my grandma and boyfriend. They were in the bathroom and I was waiting for them. She walked in and was clearly with another friend. At first, I wondered if it was her. When I walked up to her, it was her. If this had occurred even a year ago, I would’ve spiraled. I would’ve wondered what I had done that she was hanging out with someone else when I had tried so hard to follow up and communicate with her. I braced for the same impact that I had in high school when I felt like my best friend was replacing me. I felt a slight sting but it was no longer debilitating. I reflected on the fact that I have a loving family, friends, a faith community, and a boyfriend who thinks I am the best thing since sliced bread. It would’ve been nice to make a new friend, but I was doing fine on my own. I know I’m not perfect but I know my worth. I also started to think about what was going on in her life that contributed to the friendship not panning out.   

She could’ve been dealing with a sick child, husband, work stresses, etc. So often I’ve been wrapped up in my suffering. I miss that people around me every day are dealing with really hard situations and emotions. I also have often looked for someone to blame for what I suffered. Sometimes life is just hard. There isn’t one person or thing to blame. My childhood was tinged with anxiety because I am wired to be more anxious than others. My parents were and are very good parents. They are some of the most important people in my life. I don’t know why the girls I did scouts with were not open-minded or welcoming. They were most likely dealing with things I’ll never know or understand. What I love about discovering adulthood is that the choices are mine. I’ve been able to find friends, healing, and love. I’m more aware of what other people might be enduring. I endeavor to be a more empathetic and compassionate person who approaches difficulty with grace and dignity. I know people on the spectrum are often subjected to cruelty. The world is often not kind to us. By finding our tribes and creating communities, we create oasis for those who are looking for a place to rest.