finding your people

It feels like you’re supposed to get along with your work colleagues, that is the done thing. Or at least pretend to. That’s polite.

I struggle to do this. I sit in my removed bubble, not exactly happy but certainly not readily willing to reach out from it and socialise with these people I mostly find dim and boring.

I guess it’s part of the ‘outsider’ complex bred from years as a total loner, and getting made redundant and working and living alone for long periods, generally failing to connect with anyone, family included.

All the while, then and now, I’m acutely aware of this idealised notion: ‘finding your people’. It’s quite probably bollocks of course, a fabrication of advertising and culture. But it nags at me because I’d like to believe it’s possible. Some claim this ‘finding your people’ thing happens at university, when you finally have the freedom to gravitate towards those you believe share your values and interests.

I struggled there too.

Nor did I find them in my twenties, through a workplace or football team – although I did enjoy the brief camaraderie offered by the latter.

Now it feels like mid thirties friendship groups have been formed by either having succeeded before, or by having children: having a kid in the same class as John and Dave’s kids, and luckily John and Dave seem like good blokes.

The chances are though, that I would be bored and frustrated by John and Dave, as I am by my co workers.

Not having the soothing life balm of kids, I still crave to someday ‘find my people’ – if indeed that is a thing. I imagine it must be great, having friends and friendship groups who easily get you and rate you, and who you get and rate back. Who you can laugh with like you’re in a cheesy advert for smoothies.

Until then I will drift along, ghost-like, a fragile weird outsider, insecure in my direction and particularly in my non-existent social life.