WHEN THE JONESES YEARN FOR INCLUSION

WHEN THE JONESES YEARN FOR INCLUSION

Why do people often feel the need to pressure us to join them in their way of life?

When I was a kid, my dad lost his job. Looking back, it wasn’t a huge deal. We still went on holidays, I continued my piano and horse-riding lessons, attended one of Paris’ most expensive private schools, and lived in a prestigious neighborhood. But my parents made it seem like we were on the brink of homelessness if we didn’t conserve electricity and toilet paper. I believed them and never asked for anything. I remember my mom asking my dad if we could afford a $20 winter coat I needed because I had outgrown my old one.

Kids at my private school were harsh. If you didn’t have the latest fashion, they’d ask, “Are you poor?” As a tween, I decided to get jobs to pay for what I wanted. Between babysitting and giving piano lessons, I earned at least $500 a month, which was a lot compared to the allowances of the rich kids. I bought some clothes but soon realized trying to look like them wasn’t worth my hard-earned money. Still, they pressured me to go on shopping sprees with them. I always had the excuse that I had to work, but they really wanted everyone to do what they did.

Ten years later, I was at my desk eating lentil stew I had made the night before. It was delicious and perfect for a cold winter day. My boss saw my plate, made a disgusted face, and said, “I should give you a raise if you’re down to eating that kind of crap.” Then the rest of the office had processed sandwiches, chips, and soda. Their lunch cost five to ten times more than mine and was full of unhealthy ingredients.

I could have avoided being the odd one out and bought a sandwich, or I could keep bringing my lunch, resign a year later, and enjoy a leisurely life in Guatemala while they stayed in the office until they were 65. I chose the latter.

Why do people want to drag you into their circle so badly? Why can’t they be content with their lives and like-minded peers?

Some friends are miserable because they had babies too soon and got married because they thought they had to by a certain age. They’re depressed and on medication. Instead of admitting they made a mistake, they constantly ask when I’m getting married and having kids. I wish I could say, “When I look at you, I feel like it’s never going to happen.” Although I hope to find a life partner and maybe start a family someday, I will never do it just because my friends did. It’s the same with money and life.

People are afraid of what’s different. They try to scare you into not doing it so you can stay average like them. Their fear can show up as fake concern or outright sabotage of your plans.

When I was preparing for a round-the-world trip in college, I tried to save as much money as possible. I was ridiculed, told my degree would be worthless when I got back, and heard all kinds of travel horror stories. Few people wished me well. Those are the ones I’m still friends with 12 years later.

One of the best reactions was, “I think that’s a great project for you. I could never do it myself for XYZ reason, but I know you’ll succeed because you’re meant to do that.” This person empathized, even though it wasn’t their thing, and sent good vibes.

The others? They were angry when they heard my plan. “What? You’re going to have no house for a year? No car? How can you do that?”

It takes strength to live life on your own terms, but when you’re happy and satisfied (I’ve heard from others, “Wow, you look so happy. When are you coming back to corporate life and getting a real job?”), why do people insist you become as unhappy as they are? They want to belong so much that it terrifies them to see someone thrive in a different lifestyle.

What do you think? If we’re all different, who in their right mind would aim to be average?