Individualism Over Group Belonging – A quiet reflection

I am not entirely sure what to label this piece. A personal reflection, a reflective essay, or simply a quiet observation. What I do know is that this piece explores why I am choosing individualism over group belonging in a world that constantly pushes collective identity and constant participation.

A Line That Started it All

This entire reflection began with one line that will stay with me-

“I’m Not Shrinking, Adjusting, or Performing Just to Belong”

It emerged from my ongoing thoughts about our collective obsession with groups and the expectations that come with group belonging.

Our Obsession With Groups

Groups of women.
Groups based on language, state, caste.
Political groups.
Family groups.
Relatives groups.
Apartment society groups.
WhatsApp groups that multiply faster than unread messages.

The list feels endless, and the expectation to belong to all of them feels even heavier.

I keep asking myself why we need so many of these spaces. Why are people so deeply attached to them. What are we really afraid of losing if we step back.

I understand the appeal of community. I really do. Groups can offer connection, shared understanding, and sometimes comfort. You find people who speak your language, literally or emotionally. You find common ground. You find familiarity. At their best, groups can make life feel less lonely.

But somewhere along the way, belonging stopped being optional.

That is where my discomfort begins.

When Group Belonging Becomes Pressure and create need to Perform

Some groups feel unavoidable. Some exist because you live in a shared space and information travels through group chats faster than common sense. Some exist because you are related by blood. Some exist just to “stay in touch” even though no real connection exists anymore. I am technically part of many of them.

Still, whenever someone asks me to join yet another group, I feel an immediate resistance. A quiet, physical reaction. Almost like a warning bell.

Because being part of a group always comes with pressure.

Pressure to check messages.
Pressure to reply.
Pressure to react with the right emoji at the right time.
Pressure to keep up with conversations that rarely enrich your life but constantly demand your attention.

Silence, in these spaces, is never neutral. It is noticed. It is questioned. It is often judged.

Then come the plans. When something is decided in a group, there is an unspoken expectation that you will rearrange your routine to show up. It is never framed as mandatory, but absence is remembered. Explanations are expected. Excuses are silently evaluated.

And layered over all of this is drama. Gossip. Opinions disguised as concern. Conversations that drain more than they give.

But the hardest part for me is the invisible performance that groups demand.

You are expected to act better, dress better, sound nicer, and soften yourself to fit the collective mood. You learn quickly which parts of yourself are acceptable and which should stay hidden. I am blunt by nature. Honest. Sometimes unpolished. I have seen how people react to that. It is rarely comfortable, and it is almost never welcomed.

Groups prefer agreeable versions of people. Not real ones.

Then there is comparison. The subtle kind that creeps in without permission.

Achievements are shared. Milestones are announced. Children are praised. Success is displayed, often without context or nuance. And suddenly, you are questioning your own life. Wondering why you did not reach that milestone. Why your child is not doing that thing. Why your path looks different.

This is the part I struggle with the most.

Because it does not stop with self-doubt. It quietly spills onto our children. It teaches them, without words, that worth needs witnesses. That achievement needs applause. That comparison is normal.

I refuse to raise a child who believes she has to perform for approval. She is an individual, not an extension of anyone’s expectations.

All of this takes time and emotional energy. And at the end of the day, I often find myself asking why we care so much about being part of spaces that circulate more negativity than support. Spaces where joy is acknowledged with emojis and grief is responded to with generic lines.

It clashes deeply with who I am.

Why Individualism Feels Like freedom

I am an individualist by nature. A homebody. Someone who is genuinely comfortable in her own company. I thrive in quiet, in depth, in chosen connections. I do not crave constant interaction or validation. I value peace more than participation.

So yes, it annoys me when someone asks why I did not check the group. Why I did not reply. Why I do not want to be part of something everyone else seems to accept as normal.

My life is already full. I have a family to care for. A home to run. Books to lose myself in. Creative outlets that matter to me. Platforms I want to build with intention. I do not have the capacity or the desire to add one more layer of obligation disguised as connection.

So I am not shrinking, adjusting, or performing just to belong.

I do not need a committee to approve my existence. I do not need constant visibility to feel valid. I trust my inner compass more than public applause.

And the more I lean into that truth, the lighter everything feels.

Belonging should never cost you your authenticity.
And opting out is not rejection.
Sometimes, it is simply choosing yourself.

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I won’t be writing pieces like this often, but if this one spoke to you, say so. I’ll take that as a sign to write another when the moment feels right.

What’s your opinion on Individualism and Group Belonging?
Do you choose solitude over being part of noise? Why?

Just in case you missed,,,

• Individualism Over Group Belonging – A quiet reflection
• Digging Dr Jones by Olivia Jackson – fun and adventurous romance
• December 2025 Wrap Up Mood Reading Took Over – good final month of the year

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