I shine, you shine...

Shiny People and the Myth of Belonging

l was having a conversation about belonging—the feeling, the desire for acceptance versus the internal self rejecting the idea that they needed to belong. The result was that they maintained their sense of isolation as a self-described “weirdo” and outsider because they believed that their personality, quirks and all, was destined to be an outsider.

I get it. For years, I struggled with insecurity. It took heartbreak as a wake-up call, a moment in front of my mirror, broken, telling myself that I loved myself. Clearly, at that time, the one who caused the heartbreak also added some vinegar and salt to the wounds, letting me know I was worthless. In my state of insecurity and self-loathing, I took the pill she offered, I’ll call it the green pill because some envy was in there somewhere, and hurt people, hurt people, and so I engaged in a range of actions from self-deprecation to all kinds of pseudo-healing talk, instead of accepting that, in retrospect, slim was a trash human being—and that’s okay too.

That period of my life helped me; that moment wasn’t the start of a villain’s origin story. Instead, I learned to lean into myself. My relationship with the god of my understanding was what I needed at the time. How I felt about myself far outweighed any evidence from exegesis or scriptural promises. How could I find grounding in those pages? Belief, religion, and spirituality are all separate things, I’ve found. My pursuit of that agape love was sustained by the lack of philia, storge, and eros in my personal life. I was trying to find the love I lacked, in others, in God, in fellowship, in friendship—and as innocent as that was, for me, it wasn’t the way.

That’s mad personal, but hear me out. I think you needed context to understand where I’m heading. This idea of belonging directly relates to how much you love yourself. I’m not talking about narcissists who fake that love of self as a mask to hide their deep insecurities and self-hatred. I mean, anyone who mentions the “cool kids table” or feels like they will do anything to “belong” or who thinks they don’t “belong”— is struggling with insecurity. The fact is, there is no table, and you belong where you are.

That’s what I shared in that conversation. For me, belonging isn’t about accolades, achievements, or money that give you agency in spaces where some invisible velvet rope or set of criteria acts as a gatekeeper. Belonging is understanding that you are the value in the equation—that it’s about knowing your place in the universe, based on your love of self and the realization that the spaces you show up in are your spaces to begin with.

I feel the same when other people try to skunk your shine. I say this to all my shiny people (whether you know you’re shiny or not):

a. You have to recognize and accept that you’re shiny,
b. You can’t do anything about being shiny

It’s the whole biblical light under a bushel jont.

Factually, you can’t hide being shiny, and you shouldn’t let anyone make you feel funny about the light that radiates from you. Have you ever wondered why people get mad when you’re there? Is it possible that your internal light is illuminating the dark recesses they are hoping to hide in? That your shine, which is beyond your control, has made it so that folks are exposed, through no fault of your own? People can’t dim your light; only you can do that, only you can make yourself small. Only you can keep yourself out of the spaces that you wish to walk in, circles, squares, parallelograms, pick a shape slim…I’m just saying it’s all on you.

This isn’t about exercises in ego or being the best; it’s about walking in the acceptance of your truest self. It’s walking in the irrespective of… and keeping it moving. Because yes, the isms still exist. I’m not foolish enough to believe in people 100%, because people will people. Folk—whomever they may be—will do their best to exclude, create discomfort, curate distraction, et al., to get you off your square, to poke at your insecurity for leverage and manipulation. So the grounding has to be there, even if shaken. It’s a must to question why you feel uncomfortable after you’ve decided to walk in your own acceptance, granting yourself both grace and agency, and avowing that you are where you are supposed to be.

Lean into answering and being comfortable with being okay, accepting that the “weirdness” you claim is just insecurity talking. You’re not an outlier—you’re human. The uniqueness, the quirks, the sauce you carry is “normal” because there is no normal. Everybody’s a little off. The whole world is askew, and the people who hone in on your oddity, try to exclude, or try to make you feel like an outsider, are usually wrestling with their own insecurity, looking for a scapegoat to distract from their internal chaos.

I honestly believe that I’m everywhere I’m supposed to be. I don’t mean that in a career space, like this bum-ass valley I’m currently in, is not my life…in real life. It’s a temporary space of discomfort that’s helping me to understand and relate to discomfort, but it’s in no way a reflection of who I am or karmic blowback. (I checked.) I’m saying there are no rooms and no velvet ropes; however, (and we can insert a bit of dialectical thinking) there are absolutely barriers to entry, and it’s on us to figure out how to get past the obstacles thrown in our path. But if the passage is clear, if I’ve circumnavigated the barriers, if that door is open, and the opportunity arises, I’m 100% going forward and not tripping about who all gon’ be there. Because I’ll be there, I hope you’ll be there. And I’m putting the energy out into the universe that those who resonate at the same frequency will be there also, because we are absolutely enough.

easy
k

about:
KOKAYI
Artist | Author | Speaker | Producer | Preeminent Improvisational Vocalist, GRAMMY-nominated musician, and multidisciplinary fine artist, is a Guggenheim Fellow for Music Composition (the first emcee to have achieved this distinction). Host of the Interledger Foundation’s Future/Money podcast. Author of You Are Ketchup: and Other Fly Music Tales, creator of HUBRI$ and Blackness and the Infinite Potential Well, whose artistry and work reflect a rich tapestry of life experiences shaped by DC and the cultural innovations of the Black diaspora—an enduring legacy that continues to shape the world, often without the proper recognition. Here for all the panel discussions, podcast yakkin’, DJ gigs, and keynote addresses, should you need me, holla.

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