In most things, really. Just, like, in general I’m not a big believer. I don’t believe that vitamins do anything except make your pee smell funny. I don’t believe that cleanses cleanse anything, least of all your colon. I definitely do not believe that fat-free anything is real or is in any way shape or form healthy for one to consume. I don’t believe it when people say that their lives are perfect. I don’t believe conspiracy theorists when they tell me things about the world–any things about the world–or that anyone is actually capable of looking as flawless as the cover of a magazine. I don’t believe in any gods to speak of, nor do I believe in curses or bad luck or jinxes.

That said…there really is something to be said for the community that comes with believing. Whether it’s praying to a higher power and joining a flock of fellow-believers, or being a part of an ensemble, a team or a sorority–there really is something incredibly powerful about the bond that is created and the level of support and love that exists in those communities.

Sure, it can turn ugly. Fast. But, when it’s good it’s really fucking good. And, when I see it out there in the world–a group of churchgoers, a meditation class letting out, a choir singing on the street, a barrage of sweaty soccer players after a game–it leaves me feeling a little envious. And, nostalgic for something I never had. How can you be nostalgic for something you’ve never experienced? It’s possible, that’s all I can say.

So, the question is…what do you join when you’re not much of a joiner? How do you create community around nothing? I mean, nothing in the Seinfeld sense of nothing–which is to say everything and not just one single thing.

How do you worship, meditate, relax, unburden yourself without a church, a god, a singular vision? And, how do those meet-ups not end up feeling like work, like an obligation, like something you stare at on your calendar–for which you daydream up excuses?

Weekly craft nights, monthly conversations solamente en español, soccer leagues, zumbathons, even a regular girls’ night can feel like a burden. Not because I don’t want to do these things (they are things I love!) but because I just don’t want to give up the time, or find the babysitter–or pay for the babysitter, or it’s cold out and I can’t motivate, or I’m tired, or my back hurts, or I’m right in the middle of a super sweet Netflix situation. 

It’s like, theoretically, I want to belong. But, in practice, I just want to sit on my couch and binge-watch Gilmore Girls.