People Share Their Wildest “I Don’t Belong Here” Moments
This above gif pretty much sums up the awkward encounters these people had.
Went on the company ski trip which sounds posher than it actually is and we have to pay for it out of our wages.
Had to sit on a dinner table with the heads of the company and some other high up people from different companies and the stuff they were talking about in terms of leisure activities were well out of my league. When you try to join the conversation and you get a patronizing smile from one of them who doesn’t engage you conversation has a strange effect on you. Finished my dinner and fuck off to the bar.
In 2007 I went to what I thought was my first AA meeting. It was being held at a church, and when I walked in to where the meeting was supposed to take place there was 5-6 other men sitting down.
I took a seat, and after a couple of moments pass, the meeting starts. If my memory is correct, I was asked to introduce myself, So I said, “My name is **** ********* and I’m an alcoholic.” After a few moments, one of the men let me know that I was at a Sex Addicts Anonymous meeting. I apologized and left. Felt really weird about it at the time, but now I just laugh about it.
I watched a lot of Pokemon when I was like 8. I went to a local anime convention and I was sooo confused and awkward. Everyone was in cosplay and talking about anime and I just sat there looking at my pokemon cards all depressed.
My first holiday in foster care was Christmas 2010. I was 14 years old; a freshman in high school. I missed my family and I didn’t know anyone there except my foster parents. I felt completely like an alien amongst 50 people. I was young, scared, and alone.
I went on my phone and my foster mom raised her voice and told me to get off. That made me snap and I started tearing up so I went outside in the cold to cry by myself so I wouldn’t make a scene. I cried behind a car in the dark in the snow that fell a few days prior.
This old man comes outside and calmly talks to me. He tells me that he used to be in foster care too. I don’t remember what he said exactly, but he made me laugh and feel a little better.
That old man turned out to be who I would call Grandpa Earnie a few years down the road. He passed away a couple springs ago. He always made sure everyone felt welcomed and always would break tension/silence with a joke that made everyone laugh. He went through his own hell growing up and he did his best to make sure no one else had to.
Wanted to learn to play guitar – found out about a class for beginner sessions for adults. Call up, they say yeah come along we have a mixed group and we will see you in the morn. Great.
Turn up to this little church like building and head in. Guy says ‘you must be (me – 27-28 at time), take a seat and we will get going in a min’. Please note I’m first to arrive and the seats were tiny but I didn’t think anything of it at the time – just assumed it was what was available.
Next min a group of small children rush in and take their places (about 5-6 years old) with their guitars. Teacher starts taking the lesson, I’m obv feeling awkward as I’m like Tom hanks in Big and wanting to get out as soon as possible but too polite to just get up and walk out.
Teacher then announces that we will be getting up on stage at the end to show ‘what we’ve learned’ please note all these little shits are 10x better than me but I’m committed now and maybe it won’t be so bad…
…Until the door opens and all of the parents walk in to watch the ‘show’. So there I was – sitting on a little chair with my knees higher than my head strumming along to some tune I couldn’t play surrounded by 5-6 year old and parents looking at me with that face you know wants to laugh.
I’m a white guy who’s into alt rock and I had some Jamaican friends at work. They invited me to a basement party they called a “splash”.. Exactly like what you see in the Sean Paul “get busy” video. I loved it and everyone was very cool but maaan did I feel like I stuck out.
In southwestern Australia. I was there working for a bit and went out with some locals. We were walking home from the bar when one of them said he wanted to go for a bit of a longer walk, so we detoured around another block.
Suddenly we were walking through the bush and then we pop out the other side near this sketchy house. A really sketchy dude comes out, looks at me and asks one of the guys who I am. They say I’m Canadian and he asks me a few questions (presumably to hear my accent). Then they hand him a few hundred dollars and he hands them a few small bags of drugs.
On the way home, the guys I’m with stop, open up one of the bags and smash the contents up on a rock and snort it. I politely decline. Suddenly everyone I’m with is high on meth. Once I was familiar with the area we were in I got the f*ck out of there.
A friend invited me to a party at his friend’s place. Everyone was dressed in animal masks (not as in furries, this was like, black tie formal but with people wearing realistic giraffe masks). My friend seemed confused that I was dressed normally. I do not speak to him anymore.
I still don’t know what the deal with that place was.
I’m expat Dutch. Meaning I was born there, and have a passport. Moving to the Netherlands as a teenager for the first time did not go well. Teenagers are a*sholes, but even more so if you are any kind of foreign. And don’t speak the language perfectly.
I have mild autism and I decided to try doing an autism meet up with other autistic people. Everyone else was way more severe than me. It was fine and an interesting perspective but it wasn’t my kind of place.
I am a college professor. Got my first job out of grad school, quit at the end of the second year. Found out while quitting that they were about to fire me. It was one of the ten largest universities in the USA.
Today I teach at a tiny liberal arts college. Been there over a decade, and they vote me professor of the year an average of once every three years. Here I fit. There I didn’t. “There” was big, research-driven, prestige-hungry. “Here,” they want me to take good care of the students. That I can do. I love my job.
Going to back to school night. I am a single dad and not wealthy. Well, not financially. My kids go to a school in a very affluent neighborhood. The dad to mom ratio was roughly 3/10. They all had very expensive clothes and jewelry. Here I am in my shorts and a tee shirt. Most of the cars were Lexus, BMW, Mercedes, any were Tesla, Maserati, or some other exotic. Luckily my kids don’t seem to feel it nor are they mistreated. So that’s good.
I went to an alternative school. Everyone was goth and I was just a normal kid that was playing sports and stuff and wearing colorful clothes with kids in all black.
I’ve always felt like I fit in two very different crowds. I’m very at home with a group of redneck friends out camping and hunting for the weekend. And I can fit in at formal business dinner type settings.
One time I was invited to what I thought was the latter by my employer. I’m very middle class. But I was completely out of my element. It was a silent charity auction for disabled children. They had various donated items up for auction. You could add your name to a list with your bid. And someone else could add a higher bid under that. The cheapest thing they had to bid on was a Barbie doll. It was $375. I didn’t bid on anything. Later that evening I was talking to a co-worker who was a friend of the owner. He told me he won a horse. Yeah, didn’t fit in.
At the drive thru window at Dutch Bros coffee. Their super sweet, cheerful and it’s their job to “connect” with customers; but I feel like I need to rehearse what I’m going to talk about before I get there. Social anxiety keeps my a loyal Starbucks customer. I’m sorry.
My first time out drinking after I turned legal age I ended up in the smoke pit of the strip club talking about Jesus.
I’m in a metal band and love playing the music and love listening to the music, but when we play shows I feel out of place among the other members if the scene because nearly everyone I know and interact with are potheads/drunks/party animals and I’m not about that.
I drink casually but don’t get drunk as I fear becoming an alcoholic because my family has a history of it. In contrast I’m very subdued and work hard to maintain success in my career.
I was at a low point in my life. Unemployed, no support, hungry and dressed in worn working class clothing. I was out with a buddy, who had as little class as I did at the time. We somehow had managed to find a few dollars and figured we should go have a drink. Unfortunately the place we went to was full of sailors. Not burly longshoremen, not Popeye and not shifty eyed cut throats.
No, these were the kind of sailors that owned and raced yachts. We go in, walk out to the patio and stop. Everyone there was white. Everyone there was dressed in white. The entire patio went quiet, and literally everyone stared at us. We immediately turned tail and left. I think we ended up sharing a bottle of cheap wine under a bridge that day.
Funny thing is I bet we had much more fun under that bridge than we would have had surrounded by all those clean young snoticals.
I went to a classical concert in a fancy manor house of sorts at the border between Scotland and England. They served some food in between the “acts” of the concert where you would sit at small tables to have it.
I was the only one below the age of like 60 and everyone looked very posh. Tried making some smalltalk at one of those tables but the old ladies with their hats on seemed to be not very keen on talking with a peasant like me. You could really see it in their faces.
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