The Myth of Inclusion: When Belonging Isn’t Part of the Plan

“Even in so-called “inclusive” spaces, I can’t cope. I don’t belong. And honestly? I think I’ll survive if you don’t like me.”

'The myth of inclusion'

To all the other “problems” out there- I see you, and I love you.

This is why I do what I do. Because the tears I shed aren’t just mine- they belong to so many others. People who have walked into spaces marketed as inclusive, accessible, progressive, or welcoming… and still left feeling othered, broken, and excluded.

If you’re reading this and it stirs something in you- please don’t look away. Be part of helping us change the narrative.

The Myth of Inclusion- a word used so often and freely it almost seems to have lost it's meaning.

Inclusion Isn’t a Checkbox

Just because you believe you’re doing all the right things because you’ve changed your language, made adaptations, or broken away from the mainstream- doesn’t mean people feel safe. Doesn’t mean people feel seen. Doesn’t mean people feel like they belong.

Saying “if you don’t like it, you can leave” isn’t the answer. Shifting the way you do things without truly diversifying how people can exist and engage in your space still misses the point.

Inclusion has become a word that leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. It’s a concept that’s been overused and under-practiced- a poisoned chalice of good intentions but limited understanding.

Belonging > Participation

Real inclusion isn’t about participation- it’s about belonging.

We’re so obsessed with whether people can take part that we neglect to ask: Do they feel like they belong, even if they can’t? That’s the essence of true inclusion. It’s not about whether someone joins in—it’s whether they feel safe, valued, and welcome when they don’t.

Because for some, especially those with complex trauma or disabilities, even momentary exclusion can undo months—or years—of trust.

You can straighten a crumpled piece of paper, but it will never be exactly the same again.

You Can’t Blame People for Not Fitting a Mold

Blaming someone for not being able to participate is not only unjust- it’s damaging. When the structure, activity, or environment doesn’t work for someone, the fault lies with the system, not the individual. Especially when that individual is already meeting you more than halfway just to show up.

It’s not about the group bending to one person’s needs. It’s about creating spaces with enough flexibility, imagination, and care that no one feels like the problem.

Some people are perfectly happy to sit out and observe. If they still feel like they belong- amazing. But when someone is silently sidelined, when their difference becomes a spectacle or inconvenience- that’s not inclusion. That’s erasure wrapped in politeness.

Inclusion Can’t Be Paused

Inclusion isn’t something you turn on when it’s convenient and off when it gets hard.

It must be ongoing, consistent, and embedded in the DNA of your space. Because the moment someone feels othered, the foundation is cracked. And in communities built on trust, that crack can be seismic.

If someone feels they belong even when they’re not participating, that is the standard. If someone feels included even when they do things differently, that is the goal.

It’s Time to Be Radically Imaginative

Creating truly inclusive spaces requires radical, progressive thinking. It asks us to move beyond one-size-fits-all solutions. It demands curiosity, courage, and compassion.

You can’t make everything work for everyone all the time but in those moments when it doesn’t work for someone, they should still feel like they matter. Like they’re part of the group. Like they belong.

Because belonging should never be conditional.

If you work in community, education, support services, social justice, healthcare, activism, or anywhere people gather- this is the invitation. To do better. To be better. To not let the idea of inclusion stop at good intentions.

Let’s stop performing inclusivity and start living it.

To those who’ve ever been made to feel like the problem: you are not. You are powerful. You are worthy. You are seen. You are loved.

Hang in there, we've got this,

Hannah xx