I just don't feel like I fit in

I have been contemplating having a conversation about this for quite some time. Personally, I have never viewed my temperament as an issue, but a recent series of events has cast a new light on this particular facet of my personality. To be clear, I am not exactly a social butterfly. I have friends, certainly, but only a handful of truly close ones, while the casual acquaintances who drift in and out of my life aren't even worth counting. Generally speaking, I simply lack the desire to socialize with people when there is no common ground to be found. Since I am in my thirties and possess a rather established, 😁 personality, finding an immediate connection with new people is increasingly difficult. For years, my lifestyle—constant travel, reading, hiking—worked perfectly fine. That was until I got married and had a child. My husband is a brilliant man; he is intelligent, industrious, and remarkably calm. We agree on almost everything, except for this distinction between being social or unsocial. The friction arose when I realized that most of his friends are people I find fundamentally unappealing, mostly because they embody everything I dislike in others. They engage in backbiting, enjoy mocking people, and possess such an intolerance for anything different that they make it quite obvious through their behavior if you don't fit their mold. It might have been manageable if I hadn't noticed on several occasions that things shared in confidence somehow become public knowledge. Over time, whether consciously or not, I began avoiding them, and whenever we do end up in the same room, I transform into a different version of myself—someone defensive and argumentative, which is entirely uncharacteristic of me. 🤷 To be fair, I am not suggesting they are the worst people on earth, but spending time with them has become such a chore that I feel a literal headache coming on whenever I know I am scheduled to see them. Eventually, they noticed my avoidance, and as our paths drifted apart, our social gatherings became a complete farce. My husband argues that I was the one distancing myself from the start, maintaining a cold exterior, and that this current tension is merely a continuation of those unformed relationships... 🤷 Perhaps he is right. It is possible. I am not denying that I am not a particularly social person; I won't hide the fact that my parents are much the same way and that this is how I was raised. Yet, I still maintain my own circle of friends and acquaintances; even if we aren't grabbing coffee constantly, we are always there for one another, checking in via phone or Skype. I have never forbidden him from seeing his friends; in fact, I often encourage him to reach out and nurture those friendships. We have a young son, and I frequently ask him to go for walks with his father specifically so the little one can play with their children. 🤷 What prompted this introspection was noticing how he has gradually withdrawn into himself; he still sees them, but never half as much as he used to. When we are all together, he barely says a word. We were at a child's birthday party recently, and he could hardly muster a sentence unless he was directly answering someone. He just sat there, watching our son play. I felt a profound sense of guilt. When we drove home, I tried to bring the subject up, but he seemed completely uninterested, offering only the brief explanation that he simply doesn't like birthday parties. 🤷
Is the fault truly mine, and should I be working on this supposed "unsociability"? Should I change my nature in an attempt to fit in? ☕

I honestly don't know how... it’s easy enough to say we need to change and actually put in the work, but...

Look, I’m pretty much in the exact same boat as you. Our partners are in similar positions too, but we managed to find our equilibrium a long time ago—he doesn't pressure me to go out and socialize, and I don't try to clip his wings when he wants to be out there being seen and heard.

He’s the kind of guy who can strike up a conversation with anyone from a seven-year-old to a seventy-seven-year-old, whereas I am his polar opposite. I keep a very tight-knit circle of friends—friendships that have lasted at least a decade. These people are scattered all over the country, but they remain a constant in my life; we stay connected and truly know what’s going on with one another.

On top of all that, I live in a small town, which makes me seem even more "odd" by local standards because I’m just not interested in sitting at a Starbucks for hours or joining in on the daily gossip sessions. I'm certainly not the type to walk through the park and flash a fake smile at everyone just because our kids happened to end up playing on the same slide. To put it bluntly, I am an introvert, and when it comes to choosing who I spend my time with, I am incredibly selective. My partner, due to both his career and his temperament, is my total antithesis. Yet, despite this massive divide in our social lives, we get along famously.🙂

Thomas Morris2 said:I have been contemplating having a conversation about this for quite some time. Personally, I have never viewed my temperament as an issue, but a recent series of events has cast a new light on this particular facet of my personality. To be clear, I am not exactly a social butterfly. I have friends, certainly, but only a handful of truly close ones, while the casual acquaintances who drift in and out of my life aren't even worth counting. Generally speaking, I simply lack the desire to socialize with people when there is no common ground to be found. Since I am in my thirties and possess a rather established, 😁 personality, finding an immediate connection with new people is increasingly difficult. For years, my lifestyle—constant travel, reading, hiking—worked perfectly fine. That was until I got married and had a child. My husband is a brilliant man; he is intelligent, industrious, and remarkably calm. We agree on almost everything, except for this distinction between being social or unsocial. The friction arose when I realized that most of his friends are people I find fundamentally unappealing, mostly because they embody everything I dislike in others. They engage in backbiting, enjoy mocking people, and possess such an intolerance for anything different that they make it quite obvious through their behavior if you don't fit their mold. It might have been manageable if I hadn't noticed on several occasions that things shared in confidence somehow become public knowledge. Over time, whether consciously or not, I began avoiding them, and whenever we do end up in the same room, I transform into a different version of myself—someone defensive and argumentative, which is entirely uncharacteristic of me. 🤷 To be fair, I am not suggesting they are the worst people on earth, but spending time with them has become such a chore that I feel a literal headache coming on whenever I know I am scheduled to see them. Eventually, they noticed my avoidance, and as our paths drifted apart, our social gatherings became a complete farce. My husband argues that I was the one distancing myself from the start, maintaining a cold exterior, and that this current tension is merely a continuation of those unformed relationships... 🤷 Perhaps he is right. It is possible. I am not denying that I am not a particularly social person; I won't hide the fact that my parents are much the same way and that this is how I was raised. Yet, I still maintain my own circle of friends and acquaintances; even if we aren't grabbing coffee constantly, we are always there for one another, checking in via phone or Skype. I have never forbidden him from seeing his friends; in fact, I often encourage him to reach out and nurture those friendships. We have a young son, and I frequently ask him to go for walks with his father specifically so the little one can play with their children. 🤷 What prompted this introspection was noticing how he has gradually withdrawn into himself; he still sees them, but never half as much as he used to. When we are all together, he barely says a word. We were at a child's birthday party recently, and he could hardly muster a sentence unless he was directly answering someone. He just sat there, watching our son play. I felt a profound sense of guilt. When we drove home, I tried to bring the subject up, but he seemed completely uninterested, offering only the brief explanation that he simply doesn't like birthday parties. 🤷
Is the fault truly mine, and should I be working on this supposed "unsociability"? Should I change my nature in an attempt to fit in? ☕

If your husband is supposedly some kind of "genius," then where did he find a friend group like that? You really are who you hang out with, right? A true genius would actually listen to his wife and admit when she's right, but... yeah, blah, blah, blah... And why on earth is he punishing you with the silent treatment if he's so brilliant? As for everything else, I think you hit the nail on the head—someone truly smart doesn't need that kind of crowd. But man, being the smart one in the room is tough when everyone else is just... well, you know. Jealous, petty, gossipy, low-life types...🙄

Andrew Doyle said:I honestly don't know how... it’s easy enough to say we need to change and actually put in the work, but...

Look, I’m pretty much in the exact same boat as you. Our partners are in similar positions too, but we managed to find our equilibrium a long time ago—he doesn't pressure me to go out and socialize, and I don't try to clip his wings when he wants to be out there being seen and heard.

He’s the kind of guy who can strike up a conversation with anyone from a seven-year-old to a seventy-seven-year-old, whereas I am his polar opposite. I keep a very tight-knit circle of friends—friendships that have lasted at least a decade. These people are scattered all over the country, but they remain a constant in my life; we stay connected and truly know what’s going on with one another.

On top of all that, I live in a small town, which makes me seem even more "odd" by local standards because I’m just not interested in sitting at a Starbucks for hours or joining in on the daily gossip sessions. I'm certainly not the type to walk through the park and flash a fake smile at everyone just because our kids happened to end up playing on the same slide. To put it bluntly, I am an introvert, and when it comes to choosing who I spend my time with, I am incredibly selective. My partner, due to both his career and his temperament, is my total antithesis. Yet, despite this massive divide in our social lives, we get along famously.🙂

👍

I’m in the exact same boat, except my introversion actually causes friction at work. My boss expects me to be this hyperactive, bubbly presence who joins her and her little favorites for daily coffee breaks to gossip. Honestly, I couldn't care less about any of that. I don't have kids or grandkids, I don't watch Suleiman, and I don't even cook, so food isn't really my thing. Plus, I simply don't have the time... unlike them, I'm actually working.

Andrew Doyle said:I honestly don't know how... it’s easy enough to say we need to change and actually put in the work, but...

Look, I’m pretty much in the exact same boat as you. Our partners are in similar positions too, but we managed to find our equilibrium a long time ago—he doesn't pressure me to go out and socialize, and I don't try to clip his wings when he wants to be out there being seen and heard.

He’s the kind of guy who can strike up a conversation with anyone from a seven-year-old to a seventy-seven-year-old, whereas I am his polar opposite. I keep a very tight-knit circle of friends—friendships that have lasted at least a decade. These people are scattered all over the country, but they remain a constant in my life; we stay connected and truly know what’s going on with one another.

On top of all that, I live in a small town, which makes me seem even more "odd" by local standards because I’m just not interested in sitting at a Starbucks for hours or joining in on the daily gossip sessions. I'm certainly not the type to walk through the park and flash a fake smile at everyone just because our kids happened to end up playing on the same slide. To put it bluntly, I am an introvert, and when it comes to choosing who I spend my time with, I am incredibly selective. My partner, due to both his career and his temperament, is my total antithesis. Yet, despite this massive divide in our social lives, we get along famously.🙂

I completely agree with you there; I really don't have anything to add to that point. My actual concern is whether I might have inadvertently influenced his attitude toward his friends, which certainly wasn't my intention. It doesn't bother me at all that he hangs out with them or visits them, provided he does so without me. 😁 I don't mind showing up for a birthday or a backyard BBQ now and then, but if I can dodge the forced socializing, I’ll take it. Usually, if I bail, he won't show either, or if we do both make an appearance, he ends up being pretty tied up with his side project anyway. 🤷 It seems a bit nonsensical to me; I never actually spoke out against them, I simply made it clear on a few occasions that their circle just isn't my scene.

Ronald Hernandez9 said:If your husband is supposedly some kind of "genius," then where did he find a friend group like that? You really are who you hang out with, right? A true genius would actually listen to his wife and admit when she's right, but... yeah, blah, blah, blah... And why on earth is he punishing you with the silent treatment if he's so brilliant? As for everything else, I think you hit the nail on the head—someone truly smart doesn't need that kind of crowd. But man, being the smart one in the room is tough when everyone else is just... well, you know. Jealous, petty, gossipy, low-life types...🙄

The whole idea that you should act a certain way just because of who you hang out with is complete nonsense. I have never once felt the urge to mimic someone else simply because they happen to be part of my social circle. 🤷 That kind of behavior seems typical enough for elementary schoolers or preschoolers, but when applied to adults, it feels somewhat absurd. I don't believe we are shaped solely by our friends; rather, family, our broader environment, and various other external factors play much larger roles in who we become. As for why they are his friends, it’s quite simple—they grew up together in the same neighborhood and went to the same schools. He isn't punishing me, as he isn't that type of person. It’s more likely he believes offering support is the right move, or perhaps he's just started noticing certain dynamics due to some friction within the social circle. If he were actually angry with me, he would have told me exactly that with total clarity.
As for that bolded part, I honestly don't have much to say to you about it 🤣🤣🤣.. It's clear I simply lack the intellect required to perceive everything that YOU have managed to notice ☕

Jeffrey Ramos4 said:👍

I’m in the exact same boat, except my introversion actually causes friction at work. My boss expects me to be this hyperactive, bubbly presence who joins her and her little favorites for daily coffee breaks to gossip. Honestly, I couldn't care less about any of that. I don't have kids or grandkids, I don't watch Suleiman, and I don't even cook, so food isn't really my thing. Plus, I simply don't have the time... unlike them, I'm actually working.

Regarding my professional life, I make a point of staying focused, and since my workload is usually overwhelming, there isn't much room for social climbing or idle chatter. Fortunately, my colleagues are decent people who don't pry into others' business or broadcast their own, so we avoid those tacky office dynamics. Occasionally our lives overlap enough that you hear a story here or there, but nothing distasteful occurs, and if it were the opposite, I think the stress of such a high-responsibility job would drive me insane.

Thomas Morris2 said:I completely agree with you there; I really don't have anything to add to that point. My actual concern is whether I might have inadvertently influenced his attitude toward his friends, which certainly wasn't my intention. It doesn't bother me at all that he hangs out with them or visits them, provided he does so without me. 😁 I don't mind showing up for a birthday or a backyard BBQ now and then, but if I can dodge the forced socializing, I’ll take it. Usually, if I bail, he won't show either, or if we do both make an appearance, he ends up being pretty tied up with his side project anyway. 🤷 It seems a bit nonsensical to me; I never actually spoke out against them, I simply made it clear on a few occasions that their circle just isn't my scene.

The whole idea that you should act a certain way just because of who you hang out with is complete nonsense. I have never once felt the urge to mimic someone else simply because they happen to be part of my social circle. 🤷 That kind of behavior seems typical enough for elementary schoolers or preschoolers, but when applied to adults, it feels somewhat absurd. I don't believe we are shaped solely by our friends; rather, family, our broader environment, and various other external factors play much larger roles in who we become. As for why they are his friends, it’s quite simple—they grew up together in the same neighborhood and went to the same schools. He isn't punishing me, as he isn't that type of person. It’s more likely he believes offering support is the right move, or perhaps he's just started noticing certain dynamics due to some friction within the social circle. If he were actually angry with me, he would have told me exactly that with total clarity.
As for that bolded part, I honestly don't have much to say to you about it 🤣🤣🤣.. It's clear I simply lack the intellect required to perceive everything that YOU have managed to notice ☕

Why is it nonsense? Don't you hang out with people like that? You had friends like that back in school or in your old neighborhood too, so why didn't you stay in touch with them? Nothing in life is black and white, but this isn't nonsense. ☕

I’m telling you, I honestly think he just molded himself to fit who you are.
And if you’re the type of person who doesn't care about social norms, then he probably picked up those exact same habits from you.
If that's really what happened, then you have to face the fact that you're subconsciously responsible for him losing his edge.

Ronald Hernandez9 said:Why is it nonsense? Don't you hang out with people like that? You had friends like that back in school or in your old neighborhood too, so why didn't you stay in touch with them? Nothing in life is black and white, but this isn't nonsense. ☕

I disagree. ☕ To me, what you wrote above is an apples-to-oranges comparison. For starters, I didn't grow up in the same circle they did, so it’s a bit silly to compare why he accepts them while I don't. Besides, you don't actually know much about my background, so jumping to conclusions based on one sentence feels a little ungrateful. I haven't lived in my hometown for ten years, for example, so by default, the crowd I grew up with isn't the crowd I run with today, whether I intend it to be or not. You don't really know who my friends are or what they're like. I might have someone like that in my circle, but I simply moderate my interactions to whatever level feels right to me. It's also possible I do tolerate those types within my social group. 😁 Or perhaps I don't. ☕ If he or I were as easily swayed as you claim, following the logic that you are who you associate with, then we wouldn't even be having this discussion because there wouldn't be a problem to begin with. ☕ I suspect our age plays a part in this too. While nothing is strictly black and white, I find myself in complete disagreement with your previous post.

Kimberly Wells said:I’m telling you, I honestly think he just molded himself to fit who you are.
And if you’re the type of person who doesn't care about social norms, then he probably picked up those exact same habits from you.
If that's really what happened, then you have to face the fact that you're subconsciously responsible for him losing his edge.

That was actually what I was wondering about, though looking back, he had plenty of reasons to be quiet that day. Our little guy has severe allergies and can't touch milk or soy. We were at a birthday party for one of those problematic couples. We were invited properly, given a specific time and everything. When we showed up, we realized she’d prepared food and treats for everyone except my son and me. Since I'm still nursing, we eat the same things. To be clear, it wasn't a big deal that she didn't prepare anything for me personally, but it was pathetic that our kid had to sit there watching all the other children eat while he couldn't have anything. Naturally, he kept asking for some. And trying to explain dietary restrictions to a one-year-old is a lost cause. 🙄 Even though he'd already eaten lunch at home, he's at that stage where he just wants whatever everyone else is having. Someone handed him a peanut butter snack, and he started munching on it. By the end, he was all flushed up, clearly having an allergic reaction. We pretended not to notice that we'd been excluded from her plans, but it felt equally foolish that she even bothered inviting us in the first place. Her husband offered me coffee and a snack, but when I asked what was safe given my son's allergy, he just offered me water. 😁 And then, "oh, sorry, we didn't know." Please, don't give me that; the kid has been an allergic since he was three months old and you know it. You also know we don't eat standard food because we have to avoid soy and dairy. If she truly didn't know, she could have called ahead and asked. 🤷 Or she shouldn't have invited us, whatever. I wouldn't complain... ☕ She could have told me to make something myself and bring it along, which wouldn't have been a hassle. The way it played out felt, to me, like pure condescension. It's possible he snapped because of that too. I don't know; he was silent on the drive home. Maybe the way they treat us is just a symptom of strained relations, but when I really think about it, they tend to look down on most of their friends. They comment on people's problems and intimate details even though those things were surely shared in confidence. It's hard to say what caused what; it would be like guessing whether the chicken or the egg came first. What bothers me is the dilemma: play dumb and try to fit in, or be myself and demand a fair relationship. ☕

What exactly do you mean by being true to yourself while demanding fairness?

Based on your last post, my impression is that you aren't really willing to put in the effort to bridge the gap with his friends or try to change the dynamic. It hurts when someone forgets your specific dietary restrictions, but honestly, that’s pretty standard... I see it all the time in my own circle here in the States. It isn't that these people are uncaring, negligent, or malicious. Most people just don't have health issues on their minds 24/7, so if they aren't reminded, these things happen. Ultimately, the responsibility lies with the person with the special requirements to speak up and give a heads-up.

Michelle Evans said:What exactly do you mean by being true to yourself while demanding fairness?

Based on your last post, my impression is that you aren't really willing to put in the effort to bridge the gap with his friends or try to change the dynamic. It hurts when someone forgets your specific dietary restrictions, but honestly, that’s pretty standard... I see it all the time in my own circle here in the States. It isn't that these people are uncaring, negligent, or malicious. Most people just don't have health issues on their minds 24/7, so if they aren't reminded, these things happen. Ultimately, the responsibility lies with the person with the special requirements to speak up and give a heads-up.

In America, everyone knows everything, and things get discussed and commented on constantly—sometimes even more than I’d prefer. If they knew my son had allergies, they would know, because my husband and those friends see each other all the time; our kids are basically the same age, and there is always talk about weight, height, diet, developmental milestones, and all the usual topics whenever groups of parents with toddlers get together. So, this argument doesn't really hold water for me. Just because I'm not close to them doesn't mean they aren't informed; in fact, it's the opposite. That other couple lives just a few houses down, and the parents run into each other and talk all the time. As far as I know, if you invite someone to a birthday party and give them plenty of instructions, they might still slip up regarding dietary habits. A friend of mine had kids who were always at least one vegan at every single party.🤷 She would always reach out and ask what they could provide. What is the issue with asking what can be offered to your child immediately upon being invited to a celebration? ☕It's just basic politeness.

Gosh, you are just so incredibly complicated, aren't you?
Honestly, Michelle Evans is totally hitting the nail on the head here because, let's be real, people aren't actually sitting around obsessing over your diet or what's on your plate.
The whole idea that everyone is gossiping about your eating habits is really just a bit of a projection, isn't it? I hate to break it to you, but you aren't exactly the center of the universe 😉
I don't know, if you ask me, maybe you should just stay true to yourself and stop trying so hard to hang out with certain crowds, since I have a feeling they aren't even looking for your company in the first place.

Thomas Morris2 said:In America, everyone knows everything, and things get discussed and commented on constantly—sometimes even more than I’d prefer. If they knew my son had allergies, they would know, because my husband and those friends see each other all the time; our kids are basically the same age, and there is always talk about weight, height, diet, developmental milestones, and all the usual topics whenever groups of parents with toddlers get together. So, this argument doesn't really hold water for me. Just because I'm not close to them doesn't mean they aren't informed; in fact, it's the opposite. That other couple lives just a few houses down, and the parents run into each other and talk all the time. As far as I know, if you invite someone to a birthday party and give them plenty of instructions, they might still slip up regarding dietary habits. A friend of mine had kids who were always at least one vegan at every single party.🤷 She would always reach out and ask what they could provide. What is the issue with asking what can be offered to your child immediately upon being invited to a celebration? ☕It's just basic politeness.

Where did you read that? Why would they do that?

And why wouldn't you just call them out and remind them? 😉

Look, relationships go both ways. People give back exactly what you put in. If you feel no need to invest, yet you're blaming others for not doing the same, that should be a sign. You've already decided how this relationship will go. Or rather, how it won't...

You missed my question, and I'm genuinely confused—how does being yourself and asking for fairness actually work?

Michelle Evans said:Where did you read that? Why would they do that?

And why wouldn't you just call them out and remind them? 😉

Look, relationships go both ways. People give back exactly what you put in. If you feel no need to invest, yet you're blaming others for not doing the same, that should be a sign. You've already decided how this relationship will go. Or rather, how it won't...

You missed my question, and I'm genuinely confused—how does being yourself and asking for fairness actually work?

I’m typing this on a laptop with a toddler currently treating my keyboard like a playground, so please excuse any typos while half the keys are being pulled off. 😁 The social dynamics within these circles are always predictably tangled and rarely sincere. Take a situation where Person A and Person B start gossiping about Person C, who happens to be Person A’s sister-in-law. Person B asks if Person C is actually showing up to the party, and Person A responds with a smirk, suggesting that since things aren't exactly perfect between them, they can't be too sure. Then comes the commentary on her pregnancy weight gain, followed by Person B acting shocked, only for Person A to mockingly reveal the baby's name is Lori—a name Person B jokes sounds more like a Schnauzer than a human being. Yet, two hours later, when Person C finally walks through the door holding little Lori, both Person A and Person B immediately pivot to overwhelming displays of affection, greeting her with exaggerated warmth and calling the baby the sweetest thing imaginable. 🙂 The funny thing about this whole situation is that Person B found themselves in the exact same position Person C is in right now, about three years ago. It’s pretty clear they learned the hard way that it’s always better to align yourself with whoever holds the power.
This is pretty much how these conversations go when people stop pretending to be polite and just let the filter drop. Honestly, it left a bad taste in my mouth. Having grown up in a small town, I’ve never had much patience for this kind of blatant hypocrisy. I briefly considered pulling her aside to tell her exactly what I thought, but I decided that risking family harmony over someone's ugly mouth just wasn't worth the effort. It’s the same story with the guys, too. I watched one man criticize his friend's choice for their son's name—calling him "Kolya" instead of something traditional—only for his wife to chime in with a jab about how people from certain backgrounds always insist on picking Russian names. 😕 🤦 It is quite telling when people discuss those they are close to in front of others who actually know them. You quickly realize that we are all likely subjects of similar commentary behind our backs. I suspect she was making remarks about me and my preference for Russian names while speaking to Miller's father, which proves I am clearly part of the conversation. The term carries a heavy weight of historical tension, though its context remains rooted in specific regional grievances that don't quite translate to the broader American experience. Thomas Morris2
There are plenty of stories like this floating around out there, and while they aren't particularly significant, they represent exactly what I was getting at. Maintaining one's integrity while staying fair is a delicate balance to strike. I’ve always maintained a policy of never commenting on posts or engaging in threads, even when I find myself fundamentally disagreeing with someone's take. I tend to stay on the sidelines, keeping to myself or just focusing on playing with my kids. By avoiding these social circles entirely, I manage to sidestep all the petty behind-the-scenes drama that seems to plague everyone else. Apparently, my lack of interest in their little cliques gets under their skin, because they can't decide if I'm being too quiet or just being difficult. 🤷 I have to say, spending a few hours with them always leaves me with a bit of a headache. It is clear that I don't quite fit in, as if on some conscious or subconscious level I am simply refusing to be a part of it all. So, I am left weighing whether it is better to just tell my own story or attempt to "fit in," whatever that might actually entail. 😳 When I talked about what constitutes a fair deal, I was really referring to that tendency to undermine someone behind their back. You either tell them straight up how trivial it all is, or you just let life teach them its own lessons. ☕

Michelle Evans said:Where did you read that? Why would they do that?

And why wouldn't you just call them out and remind them? 😉

Look, relationships go both ways. People give back exactly what you put in. If you feel no need to invest, yet you're blaming others for not doing the same, that should be a sign. You've already decided how this relationship will go. Or rather, how it won't...

You missed my question, and I'm genuinely confused—how does being yourself and asking for fairness actually work?

I agree that relationships require mutual effort, but because her connection is so superficial, I simply can't bring myself to ask, "Could you do something for my kid?" It feels too much like begging. I could easily tell a sister or a close friend, "We'll be over in an hour and a half, could you toss some chicken and rice together for my little one? I'm running behind," and there would be no issue at all. They would do it without hesitation, and making the request just gives me peace of mind knowing there's a warm meal waiting when we arrive. With her, however, I just can't do it. I have a feeling she'd end up gossiping about me later for being difficult about wanting soy-free margarine or rice milk. Since she doesn't show any genuine interest on her own, her attitude feels more like figure it out yourself or bring it from home...

To me sounds like a completely normal reaction, honestly. If you just don't vibe with certain people—and I mean really click with them—it’s only natural that you wouldn't want to hang out in their circle. It isn't some grand social obligation where his friends have to become your friends, or where everyone is expected to be part of one giant, forced group. That's just not how life works. Don't go blaming being an introvert or just being antisocial for something that's actually just common sense.

Thomas Morris2 said:That was actually what I was wondering about, though looking back, he had plenty of reasons to be quiet that day. Our little guy has severe allergies and can't touch milk or soy. We were at a birthday party for one of those problematic couples. We were invited properly, given a specific time and everything. When we showed up, we realized she’d prepared food and treats for everyone except my son and me. Since I'm still nursing, we eat the same things. To be clear, it wasn't a big deal that she didn't prepare anything for me personally, but it was pathetic that our kid had to sit there watching all the other children eat while he couldn't have anything. Naturally, he kept asking for some. And trying to explain dietary restrictions to a one-year-old is a lost cause. 🙄 Even though he'd already eaten lunch at home, he's at that stage where he just wants whatever everyone else is having. Someone handed him a peanut butter snack, and he started munching on it. By the end, he was all flushed up, clearly having an allergic reaction. We pretended not to notice that we'd been excluded from her plans, but it felt equally foolish that she even bothered inviting us in the first place. Her husband offered me coffee and a snack, but when I asked what was safe given my son's allergy, he just offered me water. 😁 And then, "oh, sorry, we didn't know." Please, don't give me that; the kid has been an allergic since he was three months old and you know it. You also know we don't eat standard food because we have to avoid soy and dairy. If she truly didn't know, she could have called ahead and asked. 🤷 Or she shouldn't have invited us, whatever. I wouldn't complain... ☕ She could have told me to make something myself and bring it along, which wouldn't have been a hassle. The way it played out felt, to me, like pure condescension. It's possible he snapped because of that too. I don't know; he was silent on the drive home. Maybe the way they treat us is just a symptom of strained relations, but when I really think about it, they tend to look down on most of their friends. They comment on people's problems and intimate details even though those things were surely shared in confidence. It's hard to say what caused what; it would be like guessing whether the chicken or the egg came first. What bothers me is the dilemma: play dumb and try to fit in, or be myself and demand a fair relationship. ☕

What about not hanging out with them at all? I mean, isn't that a third option? You didn't even list a third choice, which brings me right back to—you are who you hang out with.☕