I feel no connection to anywhere, not country, not state, not city, not my ancestors, not the human race, nothing. I don’t hate that stuff, it’s just like those are places and people like any other, not special or “mine” any more than some other group or place.

Maybe it’s because I’ve lived all over the country. Maybe it’s because I’m not particularly fond of my birth place. I’m thoroughly American as far as enculturation, language, temperament, etc as I’ve never lived anywhere else, so it’s not like I’m a “stranger in a strange land” or something intriguing. It’s just blank. Null. That organ other people seem to have making them feel “at home” just never developed when I was in the womb., nor do I feel any need to have it.

If I had to guess who “my people” were I think I’m more akin to something like a hermit. Lockdown showed me that a lot of people are genuinely different from me in terms of the needs they have. Even now that I’ve finally managed to acquire somewhat of a “hermitage” for myself I feel like its temporary steward rather than a place I “belong”. When I describe this to people they consider it sad, but I am quite happy.

I did, after false starts, manage to find a partner that feels the same way, so I’m not “alone” or lonely. Her family was actively abusive and cutting ties was an excruciating process that left scars. Nothing like that ever happened to me. I still speak to my family, just not frequently. Again, not totally sure why. Perhaps whatever I have is genetic.