This year, two colleagues and I submitted a poster titled Feeling at Home, Away from Home for my organization’s annual Diversity, Equity, & Inclusion Summit. The theme is “Belonging,” and we share advice from international employees (the population my office serves) on what they do to feel at home and ask leaders across the enterprise to ponder questions such as “How does one belong?” and “How can you promote belonging?”
As one of the poster presenters, I provided this quote, “Belonging is the prerequisite to a well-lived happy life. If we belong, almost anything is possible, and thoughtful actions follow. If we don’t belong, we remain reactive. Seek out places and people where you belong, and your life will start to change.”
Oh, if only I had known this a decade ago, I would have saved myself from an onslaught of painful and difficult emotions. It was narrow-sighted, thinking one person or group could satisfy all my social and emotional needs in the wake of an autism spectrum disorder diagnosis. But I was shell-shocked and unwilling to explore alternate paths and places to belong because I felt such little control and needed to hold onto what I could—even if the familiar was no longer providing me with the enjoyment and safety I craved.
As a parent of a neurodivergent child, a piece of advice: Find as many places as you can where you belong, that make you feel whole. Diversify. Like me, you may find your go-to dress no longer suits you, or your favorite shoes feel clunky. It’s okay. Convincing yourself that nothing has changed or forcing yourself to stay in the same circles that no longer support you will keep you reactive, and that is an exhausting and debilitating space to be.
Belonging doesn’t just happen. It takes an active intention and vulnerability, whether it’s saying a diagnosis out loud or sharing an experience none of your friends will relate to. It’s speaking up and showing up even when you’d rather be silent and stay in bed. My poster for the last decade would be titled: Feeling at Home, In Your Home: The Journey of a Parent of a Neurodivergent Child.
These days, I feel supported by different circles outside of my family: people at work and on my tennis team, a handful of trusted neighbors, and mom friends. I have a friend who is a writer, and we talk about our writing pursuits. I’m lucky to have a couple of people who know all parts of me, which is a gift. But it’s not the only way to belong. A sprinkling here or there, where you feel a part of something, goes a long way when you’re isolated and unsure of what’s around the corner.
If it feels right, share a part of your story. Invite your neighbor over even if there are dishes in the sink and dust bunnies in the corners. Say yes to coffee, happy hour, or dinner to the person who’s asked you twice, but you’ve never made the time for. It may be a part of your journey to becoming whole. Think of a quilt. One made of different colors, textures, and patterns woven together as a vibrant tapestry. Wrap it around you and feel the warmth.
by Krystal Anderson 
