When the Herd Doesn’t Understand You: A Reclamation of Belonging

I watched a video recently that left me feeling… off.

The speaker shared a story about horse herds. He claimed that when one horse behaves differently than the rest, the herd kicks it out. His takeaway?

If that happens to you, maybe it’s because you’re not a horse—you’re a unicorn. Go find other unicorns. Surround yourself with high performers. Don’t settle for mediocrity.

At first glance, it sounds empowering. It’s the kind of message that circulates quickly on social media: bold, digestible, affirming. And sure, there’s some truth in it. Environment does matter. Who we choose to surround ourselves with has a profound effect on who we believe ourselves to be and what we allow ourselves to create.

But something about the way he told the story didn’t sit right with me.

Actually, it rubbed me the wrong way.

Let’s start with the horses.

As someone who reveres the natural world and learns from its rhythms, I wanted to know if the premise was even true. Do horses really exile one of their own for being different?

The answer is more nuanced than the video suggested.

Horses are deeply social animals. Their survival—especially in the wild—depends on a strong, cohesive herd. A horse that behaves erratically or unpredictably may be corrected, pushed to the periphery, or temporarily avoided. But this isn’t exile with judgment—it’s instinctual. It’s about safety, energy, harmony.

Not superiority.

Not punishment.

Not a performance review.

In truth, horses have a lot to teach us about sensitivity, presence, and mutual regulation. They don’t “kick out the weird one.” They respond to energy, and they seek balance.

The same goes for dogs.

Dogs, especially those living in feral or semi-wild conditions, do form social hierarchies. But recent science shows their packs resemble family units more than dominance-driven gangs. A dog that acts strangely or aggressively might be corrected—or avoided—not because it’s “less,” but because something in the dynamic needs recalibration.

In neither case is the animal behavior a clean metaphor for human rejection or exclusion.

And certainly not for performance-based sorting.

When empowerment becomes elitism

Here’s what I found objectionable in that video:

It dressed up separation in the clothing of empowerment.

It implied that if you’re not being celebrated in your current community, it’s because you’re better than them. It reinforced the idea that worth is tied to output and ambition. That you should “leave the herd” in search of a tribe that performs at a higher level.

There was no mention of compassion.

No curiosity about why someone might feel out of place.

No invitation to stay in relationship, to hold difference, to love without needing to fix.

Just: perform higher, or leave.

That’s not my kind of medicine.

A deeper kind of belonging

I do believe in choosing environments that nourish your soul. I believe in surrounding yourself with people who inspire you, challenge you, and remind you of what’s possible.

But I also believe in wholeness over hierarchy.

A dear friend once gifted me a frame that has stayed with me for years:

Sometimes we simply stop vibrating at the same frequency as the people around us. The exchanges that once felt harmonious begin to fade. Not because anyone is wrong or lesser, but because the energetic alignment has shifted.

That’s not judgment. That’s not superiority.

That’s the nature of being alive—of growing, shedding, evolving.

The right herd isn’t the one that demands your brilliance or productivity—it’s the one that welcomes your becoming. The one that makes space for your softness, your slowness, your shadows, your searching. A herd that can hold your silence as much as your roar.

Belonging isn’t about finding the most exceptional group—it’s about finding (or co-creating) a space where difference doesn’t require exile.

My reframe?

If you feel like the herd doesn’t understand you, don’t rush to assume you’re a unicorn among horses.

Maybe you’re just becoming more fully you.

And maybe, instead of finding a high-performance herd, what your soul is really asking for is a right-relationship ecosystem—a web of people who see your essence, not just your sparkle.

People who love you not in spite of your difference, but because of it.

And if you’re lucky, maybe you’ll discover that being seen, supported, and safe

is its own kind of magic.