I’ve tilted a few times, on a few different blogs, over the years at the idea of finding your tribe. But it’s never yet been more descriptive of my life than it is now.
I’ve been delighted to meet folk I can talk geeky with without encountering the corresponding butyou’reagirl raised eyebrows or apparent inaudibleness that often came from the surroundings in which I worked at the time.
I’ve explained the bittersweet relief of finding a world of other women whose attractions and sexual preferences operated similarly to my own, in whom I took emotional refuge when a throwaway comment at my then workplace triggered twenty-year-old tears.
I’ve loved finding folk with specific hobbies in common that weren’t necessarily shared by friends IRL.
And all of that is still true. But since then, life has changed again.
I’ve come to know some of the online folks a little more in person (There will be more of that, right? You lot are fab.).
I’ve had the delight – most recently today, in fact – of having an animated and intelligent conversation about politics at work without feeling my opinion being actually shouted down or quipped away by those who prefer to seize a stage rather than participate in a discussion.
I’ve met some wonderful new friends around whom I can feel my brain happily unfurling.
It’s possible that Mr Blake was feeling rather more cynical than I ever do when he wrote the poem from which I stole this post title. Because actually, I am not. I use humour as weapon, armour, shield and healing potion, and I’m squishy-hearted and I don’t entrust that to many people (but it’s worth it when I do).
And that’s the wonder of finding Your People. The ones around whom you can comfortably unfold yourself, around whom you can stretch and who stretch you. The ones you can start to trust with your squishy bits.
You guys are awesome, and I am indescribably delighted to have found you and still just a little bit confused that you seem to like being found.
Here. Have a bit of squishy stuff.