Authors On Belonging: Ritu Bhasin
More than a year ago, I read Ritu Bhasin’s first book, The Authenticity Principle, to decode my own barriers to authenticity.
"Belonging" may seem like a benign topic, but the fundamental need to truly belong to a community impacts our physical and mental health.
I am not, admittedly, an expert on this topic. My new memoir, A Little Off. Always On., is a collection of essays that highlights my journey of how I tuned into a more authentic self.
However, I wanted to understand "belonging" from a more objective perspective. Call it the aspiring academic in me. I knew my memoir would be deeply personal, but I explored a framework of “what the experts say” to jump-start my writing process and. . . well. . .answer a few of my own questions.
What is the difference between professionalism and inauthenticity in a workplace environment?
Why was acceptance and fitting in so important when I was young?
How are "belonging" and "fitting in" the same? How are they different?
In this series, I’ll highlight the people who informed my answers and shaped my stories. Please note that I don’t have a relationship with these authors and experts. I found their information interesting and informative. I hope you do too.
Ritu Bhasin is a speaker, author, leadership, and inclusion specialist at bhasin consulting inc., based in Toronto, Canada.
More than a year ago, I read her first book, The Authenticity Principle: Resist Conformity, Embrace Differences, and Transform How You Live, Work, and Lead, to decode my own barriers to authenticity. I related to her descriptions of “Your Authentic Self,” “Your Adapted Self” and “Your Performing Self.” I related as an employee and recognized moments in which I adapted who I was (in unnecessary ways) to feel more accepted in office culture or team. Bhasin provided frameworks that helped articulate complicated feelings that I have inexpertly discussed more than once with colleagues and friends during a post-work happy hour or impromptu 1:1 call.
Bhasin also delves into recommendations on how leaders can encourage authenticity within organizations with regard to cultural, ethnic and religious inclusiveness or mental health and wellness.
PLOT TWIST: Bhasin ALSO has a NEW book due out in June, and it’s also about belonging.
In We’ve Got This: Unlocking the Beauty of Belonging, Bhasin’s new book is described as “a much-needed guidebook on how to heal, thrive and stand in your power in the face of hate and hardships.” She reveals how to unlock belonging so that you can live your best – personally and professionally.
Bhasin organizes her book around the path to belonging, which includes the (deceivingly simple looking) three steps:
1) Hurting
2) Healing
3) Belonging
So, if you’d like a deep dive into authenticity, empowerment, and belonging, make some room on your bookshelf for Bhasin's books. I promise they belong there.
First Look: Introduction
Exclusive Sneak Peek at the Introductory Chapter for A Little Off. Always On.
Recently, I found a journal from college while cleaning my childhood room. In a small book bound in dramatic blue and pink paisley cloth, I cataloged my finals, lamented saying goodbye to friends after graduation, wrote poetry about broken hearts in tear-stained ink, and made tidy lists of future goals. One list, in particular, caught my eye.
Just after college graduation, before I went to graduate school, I sat cross-legged in a booth at the first Starbucks in Springfield, Missouri, and sipped my latte hack — a Café Misto or steamed milk and coffee because espresso was too expensive. There, at the ripe age of twenty-two years old, wearing my favorite bootcut jeans and grey Gap hoodie, I wrote the list titled, “40 goals by 40 years old.”
In heavy-inked cursive, I wrote specific expectations and hopes for the future. Some items seemed standard while others were weirdly specific. The list was as follows:
Marry a man I love and like.
Earn a Master’s Degree.
Have at least one child.
Have a career that uses my degrees (Journalism, PR, Advertising).
Purchase a piece of art from a gallery or auction FRAMED just because I like it.
Live in or near a major metropolitan city.
Live near/have access to a large body of water (ocean or lake).
Pay off school loans.
Write something and have it published or printed (professionally — Kinkos doesn’t count).
Host Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner for my family and friends.
Try French perfumes and choose one that is me. Establish a signature scent.
Live close to my family. So close that we can make brunch for each other and it’s not a big deal.
Learn to ride a horse. Jumps are preferred, not mandatory.
Own a traditional, cozy home and put down roots.
Have a dog. They make life better.
Lose 30 pounds. (This amount may change and will be re-evaluated closer to age 40.)
Talk about wine without sounding like an idiot.
Speak conversational Spanish.
Travel Europe by train.
Finish The Fountainhead.
Start War and Peace.
Trace my ancestry.
Find an exercise I enjoy.
Travel somewhere outside of my comfort zone.
Pay off credit cards.
Master creating beachy waves with my straightening iron.
Drink eight glasses of water a day.
Invest in skincare. Moisturize. SPF every day.
Have a signature dessert for gatherings and events.
Attend mass regularly.
Work at a global company.
Support working artists (with reasonable egos).
Join a choir.
Live in a different country.
Support a charity regularly.
Have more than one source of income at a time.
Read two books a month.
Buy a Chanel bag because they’re always in style.
Live somewhere I can walk or drive to buy groceries.
World peace.
I reviewed the list I wrote half a lifetime ago, and a chill ran down my spine. Dazed, I realized that my old goals were my current reality.
I lived the life I described at twenty-two years old. I lived in a cozy Cape Cod home, a few miles from Lake Michigan, in the Chicago suburbs. I married my best friend, David, and we wanted to start a family. We adopted our dog, Watson, arguably the cutest pup ever. My sister and brother-in-law lived in Chicago, so we regularly went to museums and restaurants and listened to live music. For more than a decade, I worked in healthcare communications — a field that constantly changed and provided new challenges. I traveled. I mastered the beachy wave with my straightening iron. I fit into the perfect paradigm of a white, Christian, middle-class, almost middle-aged professional, married woman. Check, check, check.
I only had one problem: I was completely miserable.
Yes, I knew I sounded privileged and ungrateful. Like any respectable Catholic woman, I was well-acquainted with guilt. I felt fortunate and grateful for everything I had. Yet, beneath that veneer of Instagram-worthy moments, my carefully curated world was quickly falling apart, and no amount of willpower could fix it. Typically, I fixed things with sheer force. Not this time. This was adult life. Real life. I was not in control.
It was all Big Stuff: My husband was grieving the passing of his mother. We had a miscarriage and unexplained infertility. We underwent IVF treatments for two years -- a rollercoaster of joy and despair. More grief. I learned my parents were ill. I could not help; we were separated due to the pandemic. Work was a mess. I was lost in corporate politics; I had no hope of regaining my footing. Work no longer provided a source of comfort.
I failed in every way: as a wife, a daughter, a professional, and a woman.
I couldn’t wake up in the morning because I was depressed. Yet, in a cold sweat, I’d jolt awake in the middle of the night and grab my husband’s hand until he told me to go back to sleep. My weight fluctuated. I numbed my body’s sensations with caffeine, mediocre wine, and food to keep working, performing, and climbing. With the added IVF hormones and recent traumatic events, I disengaged from my body and its sensations. I no longer recognized myself in the mirror.
So, like any respectable wellness junkie, my first reaction was to find other people who could tell me what to do. Some might call me a seeker. Some might call me a privileged white woman with too much time on her hands. I’m not afraid to look for healing and direction in various places.
I tried it all:
Retreats at convents where I sang psalms with nuns
Shamans spat on my neck to close snake bites from another lifetime
Too many Tarot readings to count
Sound baths
Water baths
Psychic readings
Astrological workshops
Jungian therapy
Cognitive behavioral therapy
Retail therapy
Pharmaceutical assistance
The occasional crystal
This time? Things were different. I was not well. This wasn’t a matter of recovering from a disappointing date or a bad week at the office. My general health and closest relationships were suffering. I needed a different approach and a solution that would have a lasting impact — not a fleeting sensation that I would chase again and again.
That’s when I made a critical realization. I lost sight of myself.
I attempted to fit into an idealized version of who I thought I should be instead of who I was. For years, I dutifully followed a list I created at twenty-two, but that list didn’t leave room for life’s messiness, the occasional mistake, or... fun.
So, I dug deeper. I asked myself some difficult questions:
Is this the life I want? Or is it the life I think I should have?
Who is that sad-looking woman in the mirror?
When was the last time she felt and looked happy?
Why isn’t she doing things that make her happy?
How many days in succession have I worn these yoga pants, and when was the last time I did yoga?
Is that gray hair in my eyebrow?
I also realized I had a pattern of putting myself into situations I did not enjoy to fit in or to be “successful.” Those situations often went sideways and ended with an embarrassing moment that I would relive for years afterward.
I learned the cost of fitting in is too high. I needed to embrace what made me different — what made me, me. It sounds easy. However, I spent years ignoring my instincts in search of what I thought I should do, have, or want.
So, if you feel lonely or different, I’ve been there. Maybe you never fit in or briefly lost your way. Consider me a temporary guide, and I’ll show you how I reconnected with my personal brand of weirdness. With what made me happy.
How? You’ll see. But I promise you this: when I embraced my differences and stopped trying to fit in, I ended up where I belonged.
Content and Organizational Alignment: Content Must Have Context
Without organizational alignment, content marketing will meet a dead end – the perfect story no one reads.
“Lead gen” becomes a marketing buzzword sales and c-suites glaze over because they only hear, “Budget was spent without a real ROI.” (They’re still upset about "circulation number.")
So, how do we remove the silos and engage our sales friends? How do we ensure marketing/product management teams are also involved and what is their role? Who drives the story?
I have noticed that an essential part of content marketing is rarely discussed.
It’s not only …
✔ Crafting the perfect story with impactful data
✔ Targeted storytelling that connects with audiences
✔ Lead generation and filling your funnel with a continuous data stream
✔ Positioning your brand as THE untouchable category thought leader
Instead, the impact, the conversions, the tide turns when a sales organization is aligned, and 1) believes in the value of the leads they receive and 2) are engaged with the story you’re telling and why it matters to the audience.
Without this organizational alignment, you will meet a dead end – the perfect story no one reads.
“Lead gen” becomes a marketing buzzword sales and c-suites glaze over because they only hear, “Budget was spent without a real ROI.” (They’re still upset about "circulation number.")
So, how do we remove the silos and engage our sales friends? How do we ensure marketing/product management teams are also involved and what is their role? Who drives the story? Ultimately, the customer.
Through voice of customer research, marketing should understand what the product/service is and why it solves customers' needs. Don't assume you know others' stories or motivations without talking to them first.
Communications and content developers should understand how to deliver the product/service to the customer. These delivery mechanisms include the right messages, mediums, and moments. Voice of customer research should inform these as well.
Then, as a content marketer, you can deliver the story to a list of people with titles that meet your targeted demographic, and the work is complete, right?
Oh, contraire.
You should also engage and align with your sales team. They need to believe in the story you're telling and understand the value of the leads you share. This doesn't happen the week of a launch. It's an iterative process that requires ongoing, cross-functional communication.
For example, my colleagues, developed a lead training module that establishes expectations, provides opportunities to ask questions in 1:1 environments, and encourages engagement with our team. Still not resonating? Assign a real-world sales opportunity or dollar amount to each lead that corresponds with your campaign. Make this matter. Don't flood inboxes with strangers' names and walk away.
As for the story? It should also be collaborative.
✔ Develop a feedback loop process so you can continue to refine strategy and execution cross-functionally.
✔ Organize a sales team committee that provides regular insights and feedback on strategy, messaging, and execution.
✔ Get input from the field sales team during the development process.
✔ Send pre-launch reading materials.
✔ Join regional calls with "sneak peaks" before launch to build suspense.
✔ Finally, offer straightforward and directional tools that give people confidence at launch.
Is it easy? NO! Unifying a group of diverse people with various opinions, backgrounds, and perspectives is a time-consuming activity.
However, Professor Scott Page, author of "The Diversity Bonus: How Great Teams Pay Off in the Knowledge Economy," a team that possesses cognitive diversity (differences in problem-solving, categorizations, knowledge bases, experiences, and skills) is more likely to find novel and creative solutions to problems.
So, take a breath. Make the time. Take content cues from the customer. Tell the story as a team.
Execution will vary by organization. Be consistent with the concept.