From Fitting In to Belonging

In April of this year, I stepped into a space that forever shifted my experience of belonging. I was invited to speak at the Colorado Association of Latino Administrators and Superintendents (CO-ALAS) annual conference, a gathering of dedicated leaders committed to elevating Latino voices in education. Later in November, I returned as a presenter for the CO-ALAS Latina Leadership Conference. Between these two experiences, I discovered something extraordinary—not in the speaking engagements themselves, but in the moments before, during the pre-conference mixers and receptions.

For over 30 years, I’ve walked into countless professional events as a psychologist and life coach. I've shaken hands in rooms filled with brilliant minds, exchanged pleasantries at mixers, and stood behind podiums sharing my expertise. Yet, if I’m honest, I’ve often felt like I was navigating these spaces with a carefully curated mask, dressed up in what I believed was success, and striving to prove I deserved to be there. While I could fit in—adopting the cultural cues, speaking the right language, and presenting the polished image expected of me—I rarely, if ever, felt like I belonged.

But this time was different.

The Energy of Belonging

When I walked into that April mixer, something palpable shifted in me. Before even engaging in a single conversation, I felt it—the energy in the room was unlike anything I had experienced. It was warm, vibrant, and alive, pulsating with the collective heartbeat of my community. The voices were animated, the laughter rich, and the embrace of shared experience hung in the air. These were my people—fellow Latino(a)s with shared histories, struggles, and triumphs.

I didn’t feel the usual knot in my stomach, the silent questioning of whether I’d measured up, or the impulse to adjust myself to be more palatable. Instead, I felt a deep, almost ancestral resonance. My heart recognized theirs, and theirs seemed to recognize mine.

This feeling deepened in November. At the Latina Leadership Conference, surrounded by extraordinary Latina leaders, the same warmth enveloped me. I didn’t have to be anything other than myself. There was no hustle for worthiness, no need to dim my queerness or my brownness, and no struggle to balance my cultural authenticity with my professional identity. For the first time, I didn’t just fit in—I belonged.

Fitting in Versus Belonging

As Brené Brown so eloquently puts it, “Fitting in is being somewhere you want to be, but they don’t care one way or the other. Belonging is being somewhere you want to be, and they want you.” Fitting in often demands conformity—a subtle, or not-so-subtle, molding of ourselves to meet the perceived expectations of others. It’s exhausting. It’s wearing a mask that says, “Look, I’m just like you. Please let me stay.”

Belonging, on the other hand, requires authenticity. It’s about showing up exactly as we are, with all our complexities, imperfections, and brilliance, and being embraced anyway. Belonging doesn’t ask us to leave parts of ourselves at the door. It invites us to bring everything in.

In those two CO-ALAS events, I didn’t just find belonging in the external sense, surrounded by a room full of Latino(a)s who shared my cultural roots. I also realized something more profound: this sense of belonging wasn’t just about them.

The Groundwork of Radical Self-Acceptance

I’ve spent decades doing the hard work of healing and self-discovery. As a psychologist and life coach, I’ve guided others through journeys of self-empowerment, often pushing them toward the same goal I was chasing for myself—radical self-acceptance.

For much of my life, I had internalized the messages of not being enough. As a queer Latina in predominantly white, heteronormative spaces, I believed I had to work harder, be smarter, and achieve more to justify my presence. I wore the mask of the Superwoman, taking on every challenge and never asking for help. And while this drive earned me external accolades, it never filled the internal void.

But slowly, through inner work, I began to peel back the layers. I confronted the wounds of invisibility from my youth, the perfectionism that kept me striving, and the people-pleasing that left me disconnected from my essence. I came to realize that belonging couldn’t be found in external validation—it had to begin within me.

In those CO-ALAS spaces, I felt a deep belonging not only because I was surrounded by people who shared my cultural identity and welcomed me wholeheartedly but also because I no longer doubted my worthiness to be there. The energy in the room resonated with me because I was finally open to it. My heart could recognize theirs because I had learned to embrace my own.

The Cost of Fitting In

When we choose to fit in rather than belong, we pay a high price. We dilute our authenticity, shrink our essence, and disconnect from our true selves. The irony is that in trying to gain acceptance, we lose the very thing that makes us worthy of it—our individuality.

Belonging requires courage. It demands that we risk being seen as we are, not as we think others want us to be. It asks us to stop editing ourselves for approval and start embracing ourselves for who we truly are.

Belonging as a Practice

My experiences at CO-ALAS were a revelation, but they weren’t an endpoint. Belonging is not a place we arrive at once and for all—it’s a practice we cultivate daily. It’s in the way we show up for ourselves, the way we speak to our inner child, and the way we extend compassion to others.

For me, it’s also in the way I honor my cultural heritage and lived experience. As a queer Latina, I’ve often felt like I had to choose between different parts of my identity depending on the room I was in. But I now see that belonging isn’t about choosing—it’s about integrating. It’s about bringing all of who I am into every space I enter, unapologetically.

An Invitation to Belonging

To those reading this, I invite you to consider: Where in your life are you merely fitting in? What parts of yourself are you leaving behind to gain acceptance? What is it costing you; what are you losing? And what might it look like to step into radical self-acceptance, to bring your whole self to the table, and to cultivate belonging from within?

Belonging is our birthright. It is not something we earn through performance or perfection—it is something we embody when we embrace our essence. My hope is that you find spaces that reflect your heart back to you, as I did at CO-ALAS, AND that you find the courage to show up all of who you are and exactly as you are. But even more, I hope you create that space of belonging within yourself. Because when you belong to yourself, you belong everywhere.