joy is belonging
on the meaning of life
When I first started brainstorming for this post, I knew I wanted to write about the meaning of life. Some real deep, philosophical stuff. I thought about discussing what it meant to be human, the value of constraint, or perhaps the empty void that most of us exist in on a daily basis.
And then I realized, wtf am I doing? If you have met me before, you probably know I hate talking about big, lofty concepts. The more abstract, the more philosophical something is, the more turned off I am by it.
So, let me try to distill it down. Put it into normal words, if you will.
“The meaning of life.” Perhaps, we can call this the pursuit of happiness. After all, is the purpose of living not to be happy?
Now here I must disclaim that happiness does not need to strictly refer to going out and partying. It can also include finding joy and meaning on a deeper level (whatever that means for you). Either way, it is anything that makes your brain go, “I want more of that.”
So, the original question becomes, “what makes us happy?” And I believe the answer to that can be summarized in two words: other people. Let me explain.
Like with most of my Substacks, I am going to start with a story from back in elementary school. 2013.
At that time, I was the type of kid to hang out with the teacher at recess and head straight home after class every day. Social interaction was something I so deeply lacked (this is my really nice way of saying I had no friends). Part of it was because I was just shy. And the other part is that I was a bit of an asshole.
But, did I want friends? Oh yes. I think that all of us, to a certain extent, desire friendship. The shy, introverted me really hated social interaction not because the idea of talking to others was repulsing, but rather, because of a crippling fear that the conversation would go wrong. In a perfect world, I would be able to snap my fingers and just like that, all my friendships would be forged.
I think that this is the way most introverts are. It is not that we do not want to have social groups, it is more so we are daunted by the process of forming them and are unsure where to begin. We have this chronic worry of being judged by others, of our dignity collapsing in on itself.
Anyways, regardless of why, there I was in my sad existence.
Things got a little better in middle school. Especially towards the end of grade eight, I began to meet some people who I felt like I vibed with. Although we still primarily conversed in a school setting, at least there was some interaction. That was already a big step up.
I remember right after grade eight graduation, lying in bed and thinking about what the future held. I asked myself, “would I be able to make more friends in high school? Or would all the progress I had made come falling apart." Most of me thought that I was at the peak and it would be all downhill from there.
Enter grade nine, high school. This was a clean slate - I knew basically no one and could start fresh. I tried to take advantage of that in the first few months. And I met so many great people, but aside from two or three, most of them felt like school friends. You know, the ones you are friends with because you sit next to each other in class and talk about homework. But all things said, I was still not really *close* with most of my friends. Again, a lot of it was my fault. I did not make a proactive effort to connect with people, and at times was still quite an asshole.
Oh well.
And then COVID-19 came along.
For that year, I interacted with like three people who were not my parents. It was a tough time. I crawled into my shell and somewhat gave up on the world.
Back in person in grade 11, and things started to get much better. COVID-19 was the first time I really realized how much I actually craved human interaction. And it gave me the opportunity to think about the things I was doing wrong and how I could fix them.
I began to really try to talk to people. Made plans to go out with friends. And really put in a conscious effort to care about those around me.
It is still not perfect - far from it. But looking back, I really can not articulate how lucky I feel right now. The past three and a half years were the first time I really felt like there were people I could trust, people who cared about me, and those who I felt a sense of connection to.
The purpose of this little story is not to talk about introversion or extroversion. That is a subject for another day. Rather, I simply want to highlight the joy that interacting with people has brought me.
Going back to the introduction then, I think that all of us crave this to an extent. It is what we so desire.
At this point in the discourse on happiness, we reach the typical “let’s get real stage.”
All this wishy washy stuff is nice. i FeEl ThErE aRe PeOpLe WhO cArE aBoUt Me.
“But let’s get real. You know what’s also really freaking awesome? Succeeding.”
For many of the people around me, it’s to break into investment banking. Or MBB (MBB are the three big consulting firms - McKinsey, Bain, and BCG). Or to break into Silicon Valley. Or to break at WUDC. Or to break into someone’s [REDACTED].
Point is, everyone wants to break into *something.* And, the argument goes, this is where true happiness comes from.
And for the longest time, I bought into this way of thinking too.
“If I can get into Waterloo CS, then I’ll be happy.”
“If I can get a 100 on this exam, then I’ll be happy.”
“If I can just break at one tournament, then I’ll be happy.”
And you know what? Doing those things did make me happy.
But why?
Waterloo CS made me happy because it showed those around me that I could do it.
Getting a 100 on the exam made me happy because it showed myself that I was smart.
Breaking at a tournament made me happy because it gave me social status and validation - I was no longer just another rando in the debate circuit (ok, I probably still am. But at least I am a little less of a rando than before).
The common thread in all of these?
The real joy from the success was not in the success, it was in the validation that followed.
There is no intrinsic benefit to doing well (except maybe money). Rather, it is others reaction to it that we crave.
To an extent, I think that this makes sense. We are all, after all, highly social creatures for whom being included in the group is how we survive and thrive. And if we are not just tolerated, but actually admired, then that is just the icing on the cake.
So, we like to succeed because we want others to like us. That is the positive side of things.
Normatively though, is that bad?
To an extent, yes. In an ideal world, all validation would come from ourselves. We would learn to love ourselves for who we are, not caring what others have to say or think.
But, as George Costanza said, “we live in a society.” (Admittedly, the phrase is used in a widely different context nowadays. But let us pretend you do not know that).
It is simply not realistic to tell people to be happy with themselves when both their own instincts and the world around them are constantly reminding them that they need the approval of others.
Sure, maybe I can tell myself that I am smart. But if I keep failing my courses, sooner or later I am going to realize that I am just gaslighting myself.
So in a more practical context, we are always going to want the approval of others. It is simply a fact of life.
But I do not think that means we cannot approach this approval in a healthy way.
I have literally no life, so I am going to pull another example from me trying to find a job.
For the longest time, I dreamt of being able to make that snobby LinkedIn post. You know, the one that goes “I am thrilled to announce that I will be joining X as a Y this summer! Thank you to Z who has guided me on this journey.” The social validation that I expected to come out of that was beyond belief, and in my head I would just keep on hyping it up.
But when I actually made that post, I realized something. Sure, people left their nice comments and congratulated me. And you know what, I did feel pretty good about myself. “I’m employed. RBC wants me.”
The problem is, that feeling lasted about three days.
After that, things went back to normal.
So, the question I asked myself is, what gives? I had expected this moment to bring me never-ending happiness and joy. So why did it go away so soon?
After strolling endless laps around my neighborhood talking to myself, thinking about this, I came to a conclusion.
Validation is not belonging. Approval is not acceptance.
Ugh. I am already starting to sound like one of those corporate DEI experts posting on LinkedIn, blabbering so many words without actually saying anything.
But hear me out here.
Validation is temporary. It arises not because of who you are, but because of something external. Maybe you got a good grade. Maybe you did really well in a competition. Or maybe you managed to get your dream job.
Neither others not yourself love you. They love the accomplishment.
And the problem with accomplishments is they quickly move on.
People cannot talk about your trophy forever (nor should they). They have their own lives too. They also have other peoples achievements to worry about.
Belonging, on the other hand, is much more intrinsic. When you belong, it is not because people like what you have done, but because people like you. Things like your personality, your vibes, your interest in others, and your spontaneity. When that is what people are into, then, you can say you belong.
So, let’s go back to the story I told earlier. Sure, throughout elementary and to an extent middle school, I felt validated. After all, I got good grades and won lots of awards. People called me “smart,” and I am not going to pretend that that did not feel good. But ultimately, it never made me truly happy.
I was only a part of things when I did well, which meant there was extraordinary pressure on me to keep succeeding. I felt obligated to maintain a facade of smartness; like one bad mark could tank the little morsel of reputation I had left.
The difference for me, why I was so much happier in my latter years of high school and now university, is because for the first time, I was not just validated. I belonged. I knew that there were people (albeit not everyone, but that is okay. I am a lil weird, I know that) who liked me and cared about me for who I am.
People connected with me over things that were not ‘strictly business.’ They took an interest in what I had to say and how I was doing.
That is a freaking awesome feeling.
I think the story that really illustrates this I have actually told before on my Substack, but I will tell it again.
When I first joined Hart House (UofT’s debate organization) in September 2023, I had an insatiable desire to prove myself. I knew that I had a little bit of recognition (once someone told me, “I know who you are, and this is not it”), but not much. I thought that I needed to succeed somehow - be it competitively, in the club leadership hierarchy, or in the who has the most upper year connections contest.
To be clear, I did not actually care about any of these things. The only reason I bothered doing any of them was because I thought they would win me the respect of others, and in the process, make me more included in the club.
And you know what, to an extent, it helped. But these things only validated me. Yes, when I became novice rep people said “congratulations” and came to me with all the questions you might expect a novice rep to be asked.
But looking back, that was not really satisfying. Sure, it had brought on the momentary dopamine, but the relationship was not authentic. Rather, the genuine bonds I formed with people were the ones that arose not out of a desire for validation, but rather, just because I actually tried to be friends.
Now to be clear: I am not saying that I do not crave validation. Everyone does. And as I previously discussed, I do not think there this is anything wrong with it.
Oftentimes, it can be tough to break into a social circle and become a part of it. Having the validation of others at least gets them to talk to you about something.
But validation should only be the first step. The foot in the door, if you will. It is unrealistic to keep running the rat race forever, constantly finding new sources of success to keep the validation flowing. Rather, once you have that initial checkmark, it becomes a platform to build that more genuine, authentic sense of connection.
Once we find that sense of belonging, I believe that all the other things become less important. Including validation. By extension, this also means we care less about awards, less about material successes, and less about proving ourselves. Because by this point, we do not need validation anymore. We have, as much as I hate to use this word, transcended it.
I have little doubt in my mind that being novice rep gave me exposure to many people who otherwise would have no idea who I was and it definitely put my name out there. But from there, I knew that even if I wanted to, I could not keep winning awards forever (a little bit because I did not want to put in the enormous effort required, a lot because I physically lacked the skill to do so). So, I pivoted, really trying to find opportunities to get to know the people behind the roles.
I went out for dinner and tried to talk about non-club related things. I asked about their personal lives, learnt their stories, and worked to find areas over which we could connect.
Did I click with everyone? Of course not. In some cases there was just no synergy, while in others I made major mistakes that still haunt me. One of the areas I especially struggled (and continue to struggle with) is expressing my care for others. I really do take an interest in people’s lives, but sometimes I am stumped as to how I can outwardly show them that. And being a chronic yapper, the conversation often ends up being all about me, so I begin to feel bad. It is a work in progress, to put it nicely.
But you know what? That is okay.
No one feels a sense of belonging with every single person. Neither did I.
I had, however, found belonging with many. And that felt amazing.
So, I have yapped a lot. Now, let me go back to the title of this piece.
The pursuit of happiness.
Looking at everything I have said, the thought journey I have been on, I can now say:
“Joy is a sense of belonging.”
It is about being with people that truly care about you, and who you truly care about right back.
For different people, this can take many different forms. Maybe belonging means in a big community, or a small group. Maybe it is just with one person, or 100. Maybe belonging means you sit around a hot pot yapping, or perhaps it is with people who you do not see that often, but you know are there for you.
There is no one definition of belonging.
But I think that when we begin to pursue relationships that are more individual focused and less task oriented, it makes all of us happier.
When we begin to approach friendship and interaction not as a source of validation, but rather, as a source of belonging.
Then, we have joy.
Joy is belonging.
To Dan, who has been there for me since the first day we met.
went in expecting a goofy andre substack post, came out with a profoundly different philosophical outlook on life. well written!
I cannot believe you coffee chatted the tournament staff.