I haven't had time to write for a while, thanks to a combination of family events, a research proposal and of course, an impending Christmas. Someone asked about a month ago if Christmas was a difficult time of year and I breezily replied that it was usually a very pleasant time for me, which is true.
What I hadn't factored in though, was the build up. One lovely friend, assuming I was invited, mentioned sharing a pre-Christmas meal together. Momentary confusion gave way to that familiar lurch in my stomach. Oh, that Christmas meal. The one my oldest friends arrange. The tradition that ensures we all spend time together even when life gets busy.
The one I'm not invited to this year.
Another lady was evasive about a gathering she was having. Gradually I realised that the group she had invited was made up of many of my old friends. A group of ladies who care for, love and support each other.
But I'm not invited this year.
The reasons are probably complex. I know these people are not setting out to hurt me. They are getting on with their lives and may believe that I have brought the exclusion upon myself.
But it breaks my heart.
I've found myself googling ostracism, social exclusion, anything to find something, someone who's written about this kind of experience. Mostly what I've found is about a more extreme form of shunning - that awful act of pretending that a person has ceased to exist.
Instead, my friends will always smile in my direction, as a demonstration of their continued pleasantness towards me. My friends will tell me that they love me, whilst simultaneously informing me that they don't believe my version of events. My friends write letters expressing willingness to receive me back into the fold, so long as I fully acknowledge the things I have done wrong. My friends refuse to tell me what those wrong things are, because 'you know what they are'. My friends do not believe that the leader of my previous church is capable of bullying. Wonderful, loving people that they are, and they truly are, my friends will not walk alongside me if I continue to express my pain and make such claims.
In that upside down world, it appears I have chosen my own ostracism.
So I'm writing this because I know I'm not the only one. Ostracism attacks and undermines some basic human needs, particularly the need to belong. I'm starting to find my sense of belonging in healthier places, but I'm deeply grieving for those lost places of belonging too. I'm hoping that by writing about it, I will not only help myself, but will also provide a glimmer of hope for someone else who has lost their place of belonging. If you find yourself in some upside down world where it seems you've chosen your own ostracism even though it's breaking your heart, you're not the only one. I'm here too.
