Jealous of the Primates

We were not designed to know so many people. We were not supposed to have as much access to the world as we do.

As their names suggest, an in-group is a social group to which a person identifies as a member. An out-group is of lesser, semi-alienated status. In-groups hold superiority. In the 1990s, British Anthropologist Robin Dunbar found a correlation between the size of a primate's brain, specifically the neocortex, and the size of its social group. According to Dunbar’s number, humans can maintain only a certain number of stable and meaningful social relationships, with the most commonly cited number being around 150. Further studies suggest that the number can be flexible, and a hierarchical structure is also involved, detailing tiers of relationships from support cliques to recognizable individuals. As group size increases, the intensity of relationships within the group decreases, while the overall group stability increases.

I’m currently trapesing around Southeast Asia. No goal exists really other than attempting to escape reality, and recently, instead of exploring and enjoying myself, I can’t stop thinking about how exhausting it is to meet people. Every hello feels like a reminder of everything I’m yet to accomplish. The regurgitation of facts about where I’m from and what I do, and why I’m here, feels both self-indulgent and just so incredibly boring. I remember reading something David Sedaris wrote about people introducing themselves to him at his book signings. He talks about it in Themes and Variations, how he makes it a point to “generally start the conversation immediately, that way the person wanting a book signed never has to say the things they’ve stood in line agonizing over, and that they will most likely regret later on.” He recalls being in Baton Rouge in late May 2013, '"when a woman approached, saying, before I had a chance to throw her off balance, “You got me to put my bra back on.” I set down my pen. “I beg your pardon?”’ I wish people would approach me in a similar manner, with something interesting to say.

The first time I understood the concept of in-groups and out-groups, I was eight. I had two very close friends in elementary school who always felt a little bit closer to one another than they did to me. The friends had friends, whom I knew by proxy, and who I was 85% sure that they only knew my last name. I remember sitting at the lunch table, on the very end, unable to get a word in and wondering if anyone would notice if I wasn’t there. I think that feeling has followed me my entire life.

I don’t think I ever found my in-group. For some reason, I find being with a large group of people deeply unsettling. I am somehow always the person walking behind, the person following; I don’t know anymore if I have nothing to add or if I choose not to out of fear that no one will hear me. This is not to say I don’t try. I do constantly, and am therefore presented with a constant reminder of my ineffectiveness as a social creature. “Her existence does not contribute to group stability,” they all chant, as they laugh and point and me.

I quickly discovered in my adolescence that one-on-one relationships were the most rewarding. Finding someone who likes doing the same things as me, who understands my humor, and who pays attention to the things I say, is like striking gold. I’ve done so about 5 times, just as Dunbar suggests. I’m wondering if I’ve reached capacity as wonderful friends go. Not in the sense that there’s no one out there who I could be wonderful friends with, but as in other people’s willingness to expand out of their found in-groups. I would at least like an invitation to the party that I don’t want to go to, and I would like to not feel like the odd one out for once in my life.

My current position in the world is a constant battle between doing something I know I mostly enjoy, spending time alone, and trying to put myself out there. Doing either is made all the more difficult knowing that there are people at home who spending time with is as easy as breathing. They know who I am and vice versa, and I don’t have to try so hard.

All this to say, I am missing my stable and meaningful social relationships, and despising the in-groups of the world.