As teenagers, we desperately want to fit in. We want to look the same, dress the same, sound the same and do the same things as our peers. We all tend to be striving for the same prescribed ideal. When we are trying to fit in, we believe that feeling comfortable in a certain environment depends upon our meeting certain requirements, certain standards of appearance, behaviour and achievement. So, just as a teenage girl might feel that only if she has the same long, straight hair, the same slim figure and the same clear skin as her friends, will she feel comfortable, a grown woman who still yearns to fit in may also crave the ideal figure, ‘right’ clothes, well-behaved children and successful partner. Fitting in is feeling OK because we are the same as our peers.
When I was growing up in Malaysia, there was no question, ever, of being able to fit in. There were almost as many nationalities in my class as there were pupils. When we went home, we all spoke different languages, ate different food and wore different clothes. We had different beliefs and our parents called different countries ‘home.’ The same went for the Polo Club and anywhere else that we might get together with others. This didn’t stop me wanting to be the same as my friends. I remember, at school, sometimes forgetting what I looked like, when I spent all day mainly with Asian kids. Then, every now and then, my long brown hair would fall in front of my face, or I would look in the mirror. I would be shocked to realise how different I looked from my friends. For years, I wished for black hair and brown skin and to be at least bilingual. That, I now know, was normal. Teenagers want to fit in. I can see that I was lucky because, having no hope of achieving that longed for sameness, I learned early on that I was just me and that was fine.
The whole fitting in idea was turned on its head when I came back to the UK. Finally, I had the opportunity to look and sound like everyone else. The potential was there, but I never quite managed it. I had missed vital years of fashion indoctrination, magazine reading and checking things out with friends. By my late teens, although I was born English and looked it in terms of complexion, and even spoke with something approximating an English accent, I couldn’t quite manage to dress the same, speak the same and behave the same as my English peers. So, the opportunity to fit in successfully had been missed, wherever I was.
At the time, this seemed important. I really believed, as I am sure many young people do, that I needed to fit in, to be the same. That sense of need has faded over the years. In some ways, I probably do, now, fit in. I look and sound like the people around me and sometimes I manage to dress in a conventional way, too. I am part of a conventional profession and I drive a car similar to everyone else. These days, however, I tend to celebrate the things that are different about me. I’ve made decisions and shaped my life in ways that are less usual. I don’t feel constrained by convention or by shoulds and oughts. That has taken a long time, though. Although I learned very young that it’s ok to be different, learning to love being different and unique is not an overnight process.
Tomorrow I will look at the difference between fitting in and belonging, and my conclusions about this at the end of my magical memory day.
Do you recognise the desire to fit in? Have you ever succeeded? If so, did it make you happy?
