The Pandemic of Fitting in — Why Our Girls Are So Afraid of Being Left Out

For our daughters, sisters, students — and the women still healing their younger selves. There’s a quiet pain playing out in bedrooms, corridors, and classrooms. It doesn’t always look like a crisis. Sometimes, it looks like your daughter asking if she’s too big. Or quietly putting back the outfit she was excited about. Or saying “I don’t want to talk about it” when you ask who she sat with at lunch. Sometimes, it looks like a 10-year-old faking confidence. Or a girl saying, “I’m so annoying,” because her friend didn’t laugh. Or a child asking, “Why wasn’t I invited?”

And sometimes, it’s more subtle. It’s when she’s telling a story, and the other girls exchange a look. It’s the shared glance that says you’re not part of this. It’s the whisper she wasn’t supposed to hear. The inside joke she wasn’t meant to understand. The smile that fades when she walks in. And it’s not about vanity.

It’s about belonging.

 Why Being Left Out Hurts So Much

Because in school, your people are your world. You don’t have your own home, your own space, your own freedom. You have your year group. Your class. Your lunch break. Your locker or bus seat. That one friend who used to save you a spot. So when you’re left out — from a joke, a circle, a party, a friendship — it doesn’t just hurt. It feels like your place in the world disappears.

And that ache isn’t just about being alone. It’s about what your mind decides it means:

“They didn’t pick me… maybe no one will.”

“They forgot me… maybe I don’t matter.”

“They left me out… maybe I’m not good enough.”

This is how shrinking starts. Girls begin changing to fit in. Laughing at things they don’t find funny. Acting smaller than they are. Staying silent when they want to speak. Pretending it’s fine when it isn’t. Not because they’re weak — but because they’re human.

They’re just trying to protect their hearts.

What They Don’t Know Yet

What our girls don’t know — what many of us didn’t know either — is this:

• Friendship groups are not proof of value.

• Being left out doesn’t mean you’re unlovable.

• And the person who stands quietly alone in a corridor is often seen more by Allah than the ones surrounded by noise.
  
  But no one teaches girls how to make sense of rejection with faith. We teach them how to pray, how to fast, how to wear hijab. But not how to navigate:

• The friend who ‘ghosts’ them overnight

• The group chat that no longer includes them

• The birthday party everyone’s talking about — that they weren’t invited to

• The shame of being the only one left out — again

Where the Inner Anchor Begins

Our daughters need more than just confidence. They need grounding. An anchor that doesn’t shift with popularity or attention. A way to belong — even when they don’t fit in. They need to know that Allah isn’t just Lord of the Big Things. He is the One who sees the tear before it falls.

He sees:

• The courage it takes to walk into school when your chest feels tight

• The quiet smile when no one says hi

• The whisper in your heart that says, “Maybe I’m just too much.”
  
  And while the world keeps saying,

“Be likable. Be perfect. Be chosen…”

Allah says,

“You are already worthy. I see you. You belong with Me.”

“Indeed, your Lord is Ever-Watchful.” — Qur’an 89:14

“And He is with you wherever you are.” — Qur’an 57:4

You don’t need to perform to be picked. You don’t need to shrink to be safe. You don’t need to change to be cherished. The people who overlook you? They don’t define you. The One who created you? He never forgets you.

 How We Can Help Them

Our girls don’t just need advice. They need attunement — someone who notices before they speak.

So let’s:

• Watch their silences as closely as their sentences

• Ask better questions: “Did anything feel uncomfortable today?” instead of just “How was school?”

• Share our own stories of not being picked, chosen, or included — so they know they’re not alone

• Remind them, often: “You are loved exactly as you are. And Allah never looks away.”

  They don’t need rescuing. They need reminding — of who they are, and who they belong to.

And just as importantly…

Let’s help them not become the reason another girl cries in the bathroom.

Let’s teach them to:

• Be mindful of their expressions when someone else is speaking

• Notice who’s always left out — and pull her in

• Say salaam to the girl standing alone

• Think twice before laughing at something that might hurt someone else

• Use their voice to include, not to exclude
  
  Not through lectures or guilt —but by showing them, over and over, in how we treat people. Kindness is learned by watching, not just listening.

  And real strength isn’t about being the most liked —
  it’s about stepping in when someone else is being left out,
  even if no one else does.