Finding Your Tribe

Not as simple as it sounds

I watch the world pass by my window: workers on their commute, parents shepherding reluctant children in oversized uniforms, dog walkers marching or sauntering depending on their agenda — or that of their pooch.

Then there are the retired. Some seem genuinely delighted, looking around them with a contentment visible to all. Others carry themselves differently, shoulders hunched as though bearing a weight no one else can see.

And then there is me watching them and wondering where I fit. How do people observe me as I walk past their window, I wonder? Do they see me at all?

I am 61 years old and for the first time in my life, I am not entirely sure where I am going. No one is demanding my time, no one needs me for anything.

Even the dog has recently changed allegiance to my husband, even though I feed her, provide treats, groom her and am the one who rolls around on the floor attempting to retrieve the ball that she firmly refuses to relinquish. She's never really understood the fetch game.

Maybe I’m giving off some sort of ‘woman in search of purpose’ pheromone that dogs instinctively avoid.

It’s not only the dog. I notice it sometimes at local coffee meet-ups too — women who seem primarily to want to talk about their illnesses, all day. I understand it, I know they are lonely and are glad of company. But I leave feeling drained rather than uplifted despite now knowing far more about knee replacement timelines in the South West than I ever expected.

I have discovered that many social spaces seem organised around looking backward. I am still interested in looking forward — towards the next project, challenge or achievement.

I know that I am far from unique in feeling this way. I often hear the phrase ‘find your tribe’ but it really isn’t as simple as that in real life.

Do you advertise?

Wanted: community of like-minded women. Must be available in the flesh. Must be prepared to radiate rather than drain. Must be willing to look forward, think big and laugh — a lot.

It sounds absurd when written down like that. And yet, I find myself wondering if something like it is actually missing.

I am not looking for a perfect answer or a best friend, just a few women who feel the same way as I do.

I have started doing something I don’t really understand or feel totally comfortable with.

I find myself studying women I pass in cafés, in shops, walking down the street — not really about how they look, but something harder to define. A sense of energy, of familiarity, would this be someone I could talk to? Would we recognise something in each other?

A quiet internal sorting: yes… maybe… probably not…

It feels less like judgement and more like search behaviour, as though I am out in the wild trying to locate my people.

It reminds me of that feeling people describe when they are thinking about having a baby or getting a dog—when suddenly every child or dog seems exactly what you want, and everywhere you look it feels as though everyone else has already found theirs.

So I find myself wondering: if you cannot find your tribe, do you continue to wait — or do you quietly begin to gather it?