To: The Girl Who Just Wants to Fit In

When I first moved to Nashville, I bought a bunch of clothes off Poshmark, an online thrifting site. I bought wide-leg fringe jeans, a cropped hoodie, new sneakers -- things I thought would help me feel like I belonged in this new place where I lived. 

Nashville isn’t the first time I’ve done this. Last year, before some friends and I took a trip to Paris I did the same thing. I went to a thrift store and a Madewell down the street from my apartment in search of new clothes. I bought floor length, orange pants and a black turtleneck. I bought a striped shirt and matte black skinny jeans, all very French and sophisticated feeling. I wanted to go somewhere and belong before I even got there.

On the show Parks and Recreation, Anne, Leslie Knope, the main character’s best friend, dates a number of different guys. One of the running shticks on the show is how Anne changes herself based on what her current boyfriend’s persona is. In one particular episode, she pulls out boxes with different items from the phases she went through with guys. When she dates Chris, a fitness junkie, she starts buying workout equipment. When she is dating Tom, a shopaholic, she starts buying random things she doesn’t need. When she is dating Andy, she wears flannels and grungier outfits. You get the point.

Like Anne, I have many times changed what I’m wearing in hopes of fitting where I want to belong. I can’t say this has ever worked. If anything, it’s backfired.

I catered my wardrobe to Paris and then when I got to London and realized people dressed different there too. A few days into being in England, I met up with my teammates who I’d be touring the country with. They were cool and mostly from California. They were stylish in a way, I’ve never managed to be. Sometimes when I looked around, I felt out of place. I couldn’t belong to these people, I wasn’t wearing the right thing! I laugh thinking about this now because by the end of the nine weeks of living out of a van, I stopped thinking about what I was wearing altogether.

We all swapped clothes and traded sweaters like sixth grade girls at a sleepover. No one cared who wore what. If anything we traded clothes just to mix it up a little and not feel like we were wearing the same thing every day. Still I’ll admit, more times than once, I looked down at my worn black boots I’d bought three years before and felt out of place on my team. Everyone else had the trendy Doc Marten Boots that had come into style that fall. I didn’t, and honestly they didn’t feel like me. At first this bothered me. Why couldn’t I like the trendy thing? But more times than not, I opened my suitcase and because they were the only thing I had, I threw on my black Chelsea rain boots without thinking twice. 

Maybe this is why minimalism has caught on so much recently. Even more so, maybe this is why when Jesus sent out his disciples he only told them to pack one tunic and one pair of shoes -- just what they need, nothing more. In the Book of Matthew, Jesus tells his followers ‘don’t worry about what you’ll eat or what you’ll put on your body. Your father in heaven knows just what you need.’ (paraphrase mine). 

Sometimes the Bible speaks in metaphors and similes, and sometimes it’s right there, spelled out for us. Don’t worry about your outfit. Don’t worry about anything actually! 

When I’m worried about what I’m wearing and if my shirt screams ‘I belong here!’ I’m not really thinking about anyone except for myself. The only things at play in this situation are me and other people’s opinions of me. I had gross assumptions about the people around me, because I centered their decisions and interactions around me, not even realizing they had way more going on than my wardrobe choices. 

I came home from Nashville about a month ago for some time at home with my parents. My childhood bedroom still looks much the same, including my closet. The clothes I wore in high school (and yes, even some from middle school) sat neatly tucked into drawers or haphazardly hung from hangers. From the dress I wore to senior prom to the hoodie I wore everyday of middle school, it was all still there.

I went to an arts magnet school for sixth and seventh grade and I can still remember what I wanted to wear to be the ‘me’ I created. I always imagined walking through the school’s outdoor breezeway area wearing a bright red pea coat. It’d be long and somewhat flow. The color would contrast my pale skin and dark hair and people would be stunned by me in it. As I write this, I realize what a narcissistic way this is to look at the world, but I’m being real about where my thoughts were at.

The thoughts were not exactly the same as I bought a new wardrobe for France, but the thought process was the same, even if just subconsciously. I wanted to fit in in such a way, people would ironically notice. They would think I just seamlessly fit anywhere I went. 

I thought maybe Nashville could be like this. If I bought the right clothes, did the right things, and had agreeable opinions, I would belong there too. Like the perfect outfit, I’d slip into a role handmade just for me. But this was never realistic, or true to who I am. At its root, I was being manipulative. I was trying to manipulate my persona so no one would question if I belonged there. 

Manipulation is an exhausting way to live. Constantly manipulating situations so people see you a certain way is a never ending game. People change! Their opinions change, their preferences change, their lifestyle changes. Changing outfits wasn’t going to give me the belonging I so craved to feel. About a week ago, I took a ton of the clothes in my closet to a Goodwill. I didn’t need them anymore. As I settled in at my parents’ house for a bit, I found myself only wearing the things I really liked. I didn’t have to perform or try to be someone for them, I was just their daughter. AC. If you’re a Christian, this may be the most freeing part of following Jesus! You can just be a daughter, a kid again.

The world is a wild place, getting stranger by the day. And if I’m being honest, a lot of the anxiety I feel comes from wondering where I belong in the world. But trying to change my outfit or my personality or my likes and dislikes to the tune my circumstances are singing has never made me feel like I belong. Changing for other people has only ever made me feel like an imposter. As cliche as it sounds, be yourself is not the worst advice. Being anyone else is a quick trip to feeling out of place. I write this in hopes I won't buy a new shirt the next time I go to meet a new person for coffee or moving somewhere new again. Because my favorite people? I can’t even tell you what they wore when I last saw them.