I am a fraud.

“Brene Brown writes, “I don’t think there’s anything lonelier than being with people and feeling alone.” I’m not sure I truly understood what that meant until that very moment.”

When we first relocated our family to Mexico City in 2019 to support my husband’s career, I made an oath to myself. I told myself I would say yes to every new opportunity. EVERYTHING. I rationalized that I would not truly be able to figure out how I fit into this new world if I did not give everything a fair chance. So, when I was invited to join a book club, a wine club, a walking club, volunteer at the kids’ school, or teach English to children, my answer was a continual yes, yes, yes. 

It felt good to be busy. It helped me feel like I had some sort of purpose in this new life. But, I will admit that when I walked into many of these venues, a smile plastered on my face, making small talk with other ex-pat spouses, I couldn’t help but feel like a fraud. This truly resonated with me the first time I walked into my new book club. I had been in Mexico for less than a week. I was just getting to know everything, everyone. A couple of my new friends had invited me to come. It felt good to get out and do something. I walked into my children’s school library, sat down, looked around the table expectantly, and waited for what was next. 

There was a myriad of books strewn across the table. This book club was not like others I had heard of. Everyone read a different book and then gave a book review to the participants. At the end of the meeting, you turned in your previous book and left with a new one based on others’ recommendations. I listened to a group of culturally diverse, highly intelligent women describe the books they had read. The connections they made with the literature were mind-blowing as they were from all over the globe. I was impressed with their worldliness and interpretations. These were obviously highly thoughtful, educated, enlightened women. I soaked it all in and felt lucky to have been invited into this group. 

While experiencing a feeling of gratitude for this new experience, simultaneously, I felt like a complete fraud. It was 10:00 on a Tuesday. Every fiber of my being continually repeated, What are you doing? You should not be discussing books in the middle of the day. You should be at work. You should be helping teachers solve problems, watching instruction, talking to students and parents. Stop smiling. Stop pretending. This isn’t you.  While I was trying my best to appreciate the life situation in which I was now placed, learning from ex-pats who had lived all over the world, discussing literature with people who had truly lived it, all I could do was feel sorry for myself. This isn't me, I continued to think. This isn’t what I’m supposed to be doing. 

Brene Brown writes, “I don’t think there’s anything lonelier than being with people and feeling alone.” I’m not sure I truly understood what that meant until that very moment. I had always been in a place in my life where I “belonged” in every sense of the word. I could not process how one could be in a crowded room - but feel completely alone. Throughout my time living in Mexico, I spent more time physically alone than I ever had in my life. I had reconciled with the fact that the majority of my time in my new life there would be spent isolated. But, honestly, the times that I felt the loneliest were not when I was alone, but when I was with a group of people trying to pretend that I belonged.