This has been in my head all week. I figure I need to write it so I can move past it. I could opt not to post it, but unless it is complete crap(more so than the usual crap I post) I likely will.
I realized recently that as much as I love volunteering at the farm I will never really fit in there. I will keep volunteering because I like it and I like the people there, but even if I had stayed on staff for 20 years I would be a misfit there. Everyone is very nice and they always at least pretend to be happy to see me, but I would have never been someone that would be their friend. I will never be someone in the “in the group” who hang out away from the farm. They are horse people. I am a random guy who shovels poop a few times a week.
This is not a new thing for me. I’ve been a misfit pretty much all of my life.
I had friends in high school and college, but all of my friends had people who were closer friends than I ever would be. Even with the high school people I still hear from regularly I’m still the little brother of one of their friends more than I am a friend friend.
I had friends at the market research firm in Ohio while I was at work. I was not a part of the group that would hang out outside of work.
I did have friends at the library who I did hang out with after work. I continued to hang out with them after I switched branches. That seems to have ended with Covid and my departure from the library world. I have slowly faded from the memory of the library world. Even when I was part of that group I always knew that I was the expendable one.
At my old church, I spent more time with teenagers than I did with people my own age. At my new church, I’ve never really felt like a part of a group.
I’m not blaming anyone but myself. I’m very quiet most of the time. I have self-esteem and anxiety issues. I’m probably hard to get to know. I probably seem odd and aloof.
My life on the island of misfit toys continues.