“The only thing worse than not knowing where [one] belonged…was knowing where [one] didn’t.”
― Tessa Shaffer
This weekend my high school graduation class is having our 50th reunion (now you know how old I am). I won’t be going, but it does bring back memories.
There were two dominate cliques, the jocks and the brainiacs.
And I discovered that belonging and being are two different things.
Even though I got my varsity letters in swimming, wrestling and crew, which technically made me a jock, I was never asked to hangout with that lot.
Even though I only got somewhat better than average grades, it was the really smart kids – the National Merit Scholars, the 4.0 GPA-ers, the Dean’s List-ers – that wanted me as a friend and included me in their weekly bridge games or to just hangout and be part of their esoteric, intellectual discussions.
To one I should have belonged, but didn’t; to one I shouldn’t have belonged, yet did.
Back then, I never knew why.
Now, after alI these years, I really don’t need to know.