I was an awkward child.
I knew from a very young age that I didn’t grow up the same way a lot of other people did. Anyone who has followed my story for any length of time already knows my childhood was a little unusual. I didn’t officially start school until third grade. I was homeschooled back when homeschooling wasn’t really a thing. My parents had a gold claim in the Sierra Nevadas, and much of my childhood was spent outdoors, disconnected from what most people would have considered normal life.
For a long time, I had one friend.
Just one.
Looking back, I realize I spent much of my childhood observing the world rather than participating in it.
Then came parochial school.
Then adolescence.
Then adulthood.
And somewhere along the way, I became aware of something that would follow me for most of my life: I never quite fit in.
There were seasons when I desperately wanted to. Most of us want belonging. We want connection. We want community. We want to feel understood. Yet as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized there is a profound difference between belonging and conformity, and many of us spend years confusing the two.
Belonging allows us to be ourselves.
Conformity asks us to become someone else.
That distinction changed my life.
For years I assumed something was wrong with me because I didn’t fit neatly into one box. I loved God but asked questions. I valued faith but resisted dogma. I was deeply spiritual while often struggling with rigid systems. Curiosity pulled me toward exploration while certainty seemed to demand allegiance. The older I became, the more people appeared to want simple answers.
I wanted better questions.
That created tension.
Many people eventually leave faith because they become convinced they must choose between God and curiosity. Others remain inside religious systems but quietly disconnect from their hearts. They learn how to perform faith while losing touch with wonder. Neither path ever felt right to me.
Over the years, I’ve met countless people who love God deeply yet feel homeless inside traditional religious conversations. They believe. They pray. They seek. They wrestle. They question. They wonder. Yet they often feel as though there is no place for them because they don’t fit the mold.
I understand that feeling.
Perhaps that is why I have always been drawn to the image of the eagle.
Years ago, someone shared a leadership lesson that stayed with me. If you’ve ever looked at power lines, you’ve probably seen hundreds of blackbirds gathered together. They travel in flocks. They move as a group. They find comfort in numbers.
An eagle does not sit on the power line with the blackbirds.
The eagle flies above them.
Not because it believes it is better.
Because it was built differently.
Its perspective is different.
Its vision is different.
Its purpose is different.
From hundreds of feet above the ground, the eagle can see things the flock cannot. It reads patterns. It observes movement. It understands the terrain in a way that only distance allows.
The older I get, the more I realize that many of us who never fit in were never designed to.
That doesn’t make us better than anyone else. It simply means our path may look different. Throughout life, we encounter people who are builders, healers, teachers, leaders, visionaries, and question-askers. Some challenge assumptions. Others create new conversations. Many spend their lives helping people see what they could not previously see. The trouble begins when we convince ourselves that our value depends upon becoming more like everyone around us instead of becoming more fully ourselves.
There is a particular exhaustion that comes from trying to force belonging through conformity. The pressure to fit in can become so strong that we slowly disconnect from our own instincts, curiosity, and inner knowing. Over time, many people lose touch with who they are because they become consumed with who they think they should be.
Psychologically, this makes perfect sense.
Human beings are wired for connection. Belonging is one of our deepest needs. From childhood, most of us learn that acceptance often comes with conditions. We discover which parts of ourselves receive approval and which parts receive criticism. Gradually, many people begin editing themselves in order to preserve connection. The danger is that authenticity often becomes the first casualty of acceptance.
Perhaps that is why so many adults find themselves asking the same question decades later:
Who am I when nobody else is telling me who to be?
That question sits underneath far more struggles than we realize. It appears in relationships, careers, faith journeys, parenting, and personal growth. It emerges whenever we begin outgrowing identities that were built around pleasing others rather than knowing ourselves.
Scripture touches on this beautifully in Romans 12:2:
“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”
For years I read that verse through a purely religious lens. Today I also see its psychological wisdom. Transformation requires us to examine inherited beliefs, conditioned responses, cultural expectations, and social pressures. Growth often begins when we stop asking, “How do I fit in?” and start asking, “What is actually true for me?”
One of the greatest dangers I see today is the pressure to choose certainty over curiosity. We crave definitive answers, clear labels, and simple categories because uncertainty feels uncomfortable. Yet some of the most meaningful experiences in life refuse to fit neatly inside those boxes.
Love doesn’t.
Healing doesn’t.
Faith doesn’t.
God certainly doesn’t.
Some of the most transformative seasons of my life began when I stopped pretending I had all the answers and became willing to sit with the mystery. Wonder requires humility. Questions require courage. Curiosity requires trust. Yet those qualities often open doors that certainty keeps locked.
For much of my life, I thought the goal was finding the place where I finally fit in. What I eventually discovered was something far more valuable. The goal was becoming comfortable with who I already was. Once that happened, fitting in stopped feeling nearly as important.
That realization eventually became part of the inspiration behind The Hippie Christian. Not because I found all the answers, but because I finally gave myself permission to stop pretending I needed to have them.
Maybe that is the invitation for those of us who have always felt a little different. Maybe the answer was never finding the perfect box. Maybe the answer was realizing we were never meant to live inside one.
And maybe what made us feel different was never the problem in the first place.
→Have you ever felt like you didn’t quite fit into the boxes other people expected you to fit into?
What was the question you were afraid to ask — or the part of yourself you were afraid to fully embrace?
Share below.
And if this resonated, share it. There are more people walking around feeling “different” than most of us realize.
*The Hippie Christian* is now available in both Kindle and paperback on Amazon.
As always loving and praying for you and our world,
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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Photo credit: Rene’ Schooler-Wiseman(Author)
