Finding Belonging Without Permission
We spend so much time trying to fit in — to blend, to be part of the norm. I did too.
But why? To convince ourselves it’s right? To make others feel better about their choices? To appease the ones who ask, “Why are you wearing that?” (Yes, I’ve had that happen too.)
Shouldn’t we be proud of ourselves? Proud of how we look, how we live, how we exist — not because it’s perfect, but because it’s ours.
If someone chooses to judge that, it says far more about their narrow view than it does about me.
We all deserve to feel at home in our own skin.
My character Dorcas, in my deliciously disorganised Tudor village of Middle Woe, is that perfect mix of well-meaning meddler and moral compass that’s just a bit… skewed. She’d be the first to raise an eyebrow at someone else’s choices (“Well, I wouldn’t have worn that, dear”) — but underneath, she’s also desperate to feel she belongs, too.
Which makes this reflection feel even truer — because it’s not just about being judged; it’s about how easily we become the judgers when we feel insecure or out of place. Everyone’s trying to fit in while quietly rebelling in their own way.
Even my Beedilly Lane rabbits — each quietly defying expectations by living life their own way — are living examples of that message.
Maybe that’s what all my worlds are about, really: finding belonging without needing permission.