Outside, Looking in

It is an odd sensation, one that occurs with unsettling frequency.

I begin by typing a few words—a thought, perhaps, or a memory; a piece of insight, or maybe even a compliment. And yet, after only a few keystrokes, a wave of apprehension washes over me. I find myself pondering how they might respond. I question the legitimacy of my contributions. I look back and evaluate the potential value of my words to the conversation. Like slowly lowering my hand, I succumb to my own uncertainty and erase my input, returning to an empty conversation. Hopefully no one in the group chat noticed.

My discovery of these academic communities was not intentional, but once I began to explore these pockets of discourse, they gradually took on a distinct, rigid shape. A strong and structured square, leaving nothing behind but clear lines and the weight of their own experience.

And I want to clarify here. They are not unwelcoming places; there is no overt hostility, barely a trace of tension or confrontation. Concord reigns supreme, and within the lulls of their dialogue, the subtle name-dropping begins—references to prestigious universities, distinguished careers, and niche specialisations. Within a row of gems you start to see the stones they took the time to shine and wipe with their own favourite leather.

But the atmosphere is, without a doubt, intimidating. I am often left unsure of how to interact, feeling as though I am on trial within a group whose fervor is reminiscent of a cult—albeit less sinister and more ardently committed to advancing a collective pool of knowledge that they hold sacred. And perhaps this sensation is merely a manifestation of my own insecurities, a playful yet persistent voice that undermines my confidence, suggesting I am out of my depth? It’s strange because it doesn’t seem like me. But this as a recurring pattern whenever I encounter new communities. Like a wallflower I stay still, initially reserved, until eventually finding the courage to unfurl and engage more fully.

Maybe it’s the perceived exclusivity of academic circles that fosters such hesitancy? Or is it the daunting idea of contributing something worthwhile to a discourse so deeply entrenched in expertise and higher-level thinking? I’m not just trying to find my place within these communities but also understanding the broader implications of such dynamics on my own personal journey into my PhD application. I guess I can remain hopeful. Maybe when I’m ready I don’t have to delete my own texts anymore.