What if Belonging Rewards Disappearing | Diane Marie Pisera | TEDxStamford

At nine, I moved from Italy to the US, not speaking English, unfamiliar with the culture, and experiencing significant loss. I went from having my own room to sharing a basement with my mom, leaving behind family, academic success, and most of my belongings. As a child in a new country, I yearned to belong. I learned to observe and be quiet, believing it ensured safety, a lesson that persisted. My family originates from Calabria, Italy. Before moving, I visited Tropea, a beloved beach town, where my grandparents bought me a bracelet I still wear. Years later, my husband proposed there. Tropea is also known for its abnormally sweet onions, found everywhere, even in gelato. Like onions, people have layers, especially immigrant families, built for protection. These layers manifest as responsibility, sacrifice, and restraint, aiming to keep the core self safe, not to hide it. However, protection can morph into constraint. Initially, being quiet felt safer than being visible. I immersed myself in books, finding solace and learning English, eventually excelling academically. Yet, the shy behavior lingered, influencing my choice of a familiar, safe childhood education degree in college, primarily to please my mother. I felt like a spectator in my own life, lost despite my independence. Seeking direction, I discovered self-development books at the library. This genre, unlike the traditional reading valued at home, was met with questions and concern. Through these books, I realized I wasn’t broken; I was living by someone else's definition of success. This led me to pursue an MBA, becoming the first in my family with a business degree. Every step forward was exciting but uncomfortable, shadowed by the question, "Is this safe?" This instinct for safety, often rewarded by systems that value compliance, can lead to prioritizing approval over fulfillment, avoiding judgment, and ultimately, disappearing. Immigrant families often equate belonging with survival, navigating a tug-of-war between tradition and a more palatable new world. As an only child, I became the family translator and IT department, growing up quickly. My success carried the weight of my mother's sacrifices, leading to overachievement and pressure to justify those sacrifices. By ten, my role was clear: work hard, succeed, and become "something" for my family—the American dream. During business school, self-development books continued to guide me. I wanted to build an online presence, not to blend in, but to share my culture and perspective. This was uncharted territory for my family and friends, bringing the risk of judgment and misunderstanding. I was terrified, fearing my family's reactions. For most of my life, I chose fitting in for protection, which brought external success but left me feeling held back. What once felt like safety became a mental prison. I chose visibility, despite the discomfort and the inherent threat it posed to a nervous system trained for acceptability. Disappearing can be useful for observation and preparation, but it eventually stops protecting and starts hindering. I chose visibility because building my online brand mattered more than staying safe. My light-hearted page evolved into something deeper as I realized that the instincts of restraint and sacrifice were passed down through generations, even to those with immigrant ancestors. Many people struggle with building an online presence not due to technical issues, but fear—their brains trying to keep them safe. This led me to the realization: dimming is the price of belonging. Starting my online brand was a huge step, forcing me to confront my accent, learn editing, and manage family interruptions while recording. It changed my life. Practicing visibility in one area revealed other places I was hiding, highlighting missed opportunities. I began choosing visibility over belonging, building an online presence, speaking at events, and advocating for myself at work. I married my high school crush and planned my dream wedding in Calabria. I stopped belonging and disappearing. The crucial question is: if belonging shaped you, what did it ask you to give up? Belonging was never meant to cost us ourselves.