Maine and Belonging

I don't remember saying this, but my Grandma told me that while riding in the back of a car with her and at a very young age, I turned to her and said, "I don't belong in this family."  I don't remember the words, but I remember the feeling.  For much of my life, this feeling has stayed with me.

I remember studying Maslow's pyramid of needs and being fixated with the "feeling of belonging". As I looked at it, the rawness of the need was felt deep in me.  Do we all struggle with this through life? I know that I have struggled feeling like I belong.  At my Grandma's funeral, I knew none of the stories shared by others, and on my other side of the family, I'm too liberal for their panty hose wearing.  I think I was lost in the world of my brother's and sister's ambitions (inflicted by our parents) and never belonged.  Between baseball/Air force and singing/softball, I didn't belong.  My parents, of course, did not make me feel that I belonged because a big part of belonging is being loved and accepted for who you are, right where you are...

I was a Christian with strong beliefs and deep love for God that didn't fit in with many Christian circles.  I was a non- traditional student going back to college at a predominately young college.  I was friends with people that had holidays to look forward to, family reunions, birthday parties, graduation parties, phone calls from their Moms and Dads...  I was a hard working server that didn't party.  I was a flirt that didn't date.  My parents cared about cars and clothes and I hated every moment spent in malls and fancy restaurants.  I was a medium sized girl with an eating disorder that couldn't fit into our skinny sized world. 

Maine changed me, and that's why it will always be a special place to me.  Maybe it wasn't Maine, maybe it was the time, maturity, growth, and God's hand in my life, but I finally belonged in Maine.  I worked hard to carve a path, to establish roots, to build a community, and it filled my soul to overflowing.  It was a combination of so many things... it was the warm hug from my Pastor, the battered hard wood floor in the church sanctuary, the singing church bells at noon.  It was also the friendly stop at Town Hill Market and a chat with Lilea, Carrie, or Richard.  It was talking about the weather and our daily lives.  It was the familiar roads, Crooked and Knox, and the ride along the ocean.  It was weekly gatherings with friends around a round table to pray, give thanks, bless, encourage, and laugh.  It was friends that invited me into their families, to stay up late, go on hikes, car rides, coffee, home made meals, fairs and sit by the fire.  It was me being accepted for the person that I am and giving and receiving from others.  It was friendship and love. 

It was a sweet time in my life, and I miss it.