In blog hopping a few weeks ago, one writer expressed concerns about the Blogher conference and evolving group dynamics. There was concern about whether or not meeting some bloggers in person would change the way the larger group interacted. As someone who has spent decades outside the fray, I regard her concerns thoughtfully and respectfully.

Exclusionary behavior is common. A good example of kill or be killed in group interaction is high school. Oh the angst, oh the hormones, and oh the pressure to conform. Those are years will not be missed, and are largely responsible for my revulsion of the small town I once called home. Cliques extend beyond the topography of high school, college, sorority, fraternity and junior league, but do they dominate all social castes?

I’m not a social participant as frequently as I am an observer of human interaction. Group dynamics are perplexing when your main goal is to belong. I’ve struggled since childhood to fill that hole. I finally discovered, whether or not I included was partially my responsibility and not entirely dependent on whether the others voted me on or off the island.

I assumed since I didn’t receive an engraved invitation, my presence wasn’t desired. It never occurred to me my low self-esteem should be shouldering some of the blame. I was not part of groups, because I made no effort to interact with them. They weren’t trying to exclude me, they simply didn’t know I was there. In essence my snap judgement made their decision before they had an opportunity to consider it.

Exclusion isn’t always intentional, sometimes it’s simply a circumstantial
oversight. I have to accept responsibility for my own behavior. When you are withdrawn or closed, people will assume you don’t want to be a part. Body language conveys insecurity words fail to express. Words from she who is trying to learn the art of better posture and not standing with her arms crossed.

As long as people have preferences, group dynamics will persist. Preferences are extensions of individuality; they make us different, influencing cruelty, and compassion. Life would be easier, if everyone shared commonality, but would we continue to grow and blossom if life existed as a strait line without a change of plane or direction?

A few weeks ago I made a self-deprecating joke to a friend trying to apologize for my lack of contact, and remarked I was a borderline recluse. Always upbeat, she responded, “Oh, you’re not a hermit. You’re just comfortable with your sense of self.” Sure, maybe today, but it’s taking a long time to get here.