Standing In The Middle And Feeling Excluded

Tom Morley joins Joanne Lockwood to unpack what it means to be “standing in the middle and feeling excluded” — a pattern that began in childhood as the youngest of four brothers, and followed him into adult life. Tom shares how he tried to engineer inclusion by becoming a vocal harmony facilitator, imagining that being the person in the centre would automatically guarantee belonging, only to discover that attention and leadership don’t necessarily translate into real connection.

They explore how authenticity changes the equation: instead of performing for approval or trying to control how others see you, genuine inclusion can come from turning up as yourself, naming what’s true, and allowing relationships to form naturally. Alongside this, Tom and Joanne talk candidly about resilience and mental wellbeing, including experiences of depression, nervous breakdowns, and the practical value of techniques like CBT.

The conversation also turns to pandemic life and work: how lockdown reshaped connection, changed what team-building looks like online, and created new anxieties about returning to workplaces. Tom shares practical ideas for reintegration and trust-building — including check-ins and creating space for people to speak honestly — and reflects on why we shouldn’t rush back to old norms without acknowledging what people have been through.

One-sentence summary

Tom Morley’s story is about discovering that real belonging comes not from performing your way into the centre, but from standing there as yourself — flawed, rhythmic, grieving and alive — and inviting others in.

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Synopsis

Tom grew up as the youngest of four boys, standing in the middle yet somehow outside the gang. While his brothers built camps and made money in the family trade, he was steered towards art — useful, perhaps profitable, but quietly isolating. He learned early that if he could become the one in the centre — the facilitator, the performer, the drummer — he might finally secure his place. Yet even there, loading drums alone while everyone else went to the bar, he felt the old ache of exclusion return. Beneath the showmanship was a boy who simply wanted to belong.

Over time — through grief, including the sudden loss of his mother at 13, through three deep depressions, through years of trying to impress — Tom realised that belonging cannot be engineered. It cannot be forced with 200 drums or a carefully constructed persona. What people respond to, he discovered, is honesty. Today he builds spaces — physical or virtual — where hierarchy flattens, vulnerability is allowed, and rhythm becomes a language of connection. What he is trying to change is not just how teams bond, but how people meet one another: less armour, more groove; less performance, more presence.

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10 Small, digestible concepts for easy learning

1. You can stand in the centre and still feel like you’re outside the circle.

Position does not equal belonging.

2. Trying to impress is often a strategy to avoid rejection.

But it builds distance rather than intimacy.

3. Authenticity is the shortcut we spend years avoiding.

You don’t need to orchestrate attention to be included.

4. Rebels are often just people searching for a tribe.

Difference is a hunger for alignment.

5. Depression can strip away the noise and reveal what matters.

For Tom, what remained was rhythm and harmony.

6. Not everyone needs to love you.

Connection is depth, not numbers.

7. Exclusion is often manufactured.

Whole systems thrive on making people feel not quite enough.

8. Grief unacknowledged becomes silence.

When loss isn’t named, people carry it alone.

9. Hierarchy dissolves when everyone is the same size on the screen.

Flattened space changes how people show up.

10. Joy is closer to the surface than we think.

Sometimes it only needs permission.

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The “why” in the story

What they believe is true about people

Tom believes people are inherently creative, rhythmic and longing for connection. Under the suit, the job title or the exhaustion, something playful is waiting to be invited out.

What they cannot unsee

He has seen how easily people are excluded — in families, in classrooms, in companies, in society — often by unspoken rules and quiet hierarchies. He has also seen how quickly those walls fall when people feel safe.

What they are no longer willing to tolerate

He is no longer willing to perform for approval or build experiences that look successful but leave someone alone at the edge. He resists returning to systems that ignore grief and rush back to “normal” without reflection.

What they are trying to build instead

Spaces of honest vulnerability, shared rhythm and collective permission — where being human is not tidied up, and belonging is felt rather than staged.

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Narrative structure

1. The trigger:

Being the youngest of four, watching his brothers form a tight unit while he searched for his role. Later, the sudden death of his mother — and the silence around it — reinforced the instability of adult certainty and the loneliness of unspoken grief.

2. The tension:

The more he tried to secure belonging by becoming the leader in the middle, the more he risked feeling separate. Add to this the pressure to be different, artistic, rebellious — and the recurring cycles of depression that stripped him bare.

3. The insight:

At the lowest points, when everything else fell away, what remained was simple: groove, harmony, rhythm. He realised he didn’t need to trick people into looking at him — he needed to connect with them.

4. The pivot:

He stopped chasing universal approval. He accepted that only some people need to resonate — and that’s enough. He embraced authenticity over spectacle, and presence over perfection.

5. The destination:

A world where people gather — in offices, online, in circles — and acknowledge where they are. Where joy and grief can coexist. Where someone can say, “I’m not fine,” and still feel held.

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Five key takeaways and learning points

1. Belonging isn’t achieved by effort — it’s allowed by vulnerability.

So what: When you drop the mask, others often drop theirs too.

2. You don’t need everyone’s approval to be secure.

So what: Fewer, deeper connections are more sustaining than wide but shallow acceptance.

3. Creative expression isn’t frivolous — it’s connective tissue.

So what: Shared rhythm or play can dissolve barriers faster than a meeting agenda ever will.

4. Grief needs space, not suppression.

So what: A team that acknowledges loss builds trust; one that ignores it builds silence.

5. Hierarchy weakens when humanity strengthens.

So what: When everyone has equal space to speak, status becomes less important than presence.

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Ten distinct ideas explained

1. Standing in the middle and feeling excluded

Even visible leadership can mask inner isolation. Emotional belonging cannot be conferred by role.

2. The myth of the magician

People often build personas to manage others’ perceptions. It may win applause, but not intimacy.

3. Rebellion as refuge

Creative subcultures become havens for those who don’t fit. They are attempts to build alternative belonging.

4. Depression as clarifier

While painful, it can reveal what is essential by removing everything that isn’t.

5. FOMO as social control

Exclusion is used commercially and culturally to drive behaviour, embedding inadequacy.

6. The flattening effect of screens

Digital squares level status — everyone framed equally — subtly redistributing voice.

7. Permission through play

When one person dares to be playful, others feel authorised to follow.

8. Ritual as repair

Circles, speaking turns and listening without interruption create dignity and psychological safety.

9. Unprocessed loss becomes cultural silence

Organisations that rush on without acknowledgement reinforce emotional isolation.

10. Authenticity as economy

Years of training to impress can be replaced by the simple sentence: “I’m feeling a bit down.”

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How people should change as a result

1. Think

• Stop assuming visibility equals belonging.
• Recognise that performance is often protection.
• See inclusion as emotional, not logistical.
• Question systems that thrive on making people feel lacking.
• Understand that joy and grief can sit in the same room.

2. Feel

• Move from defensiveness to curiosity about others’ inner worlds.
• Shift from needing approval to accepting resonance.
• Replace embarrassment with compassion when vulnerability appears.
• Trade cynicism for playful openness.
• Allow tenderness towards your own past exclusions.

3. Act

• Begin meetings with a genuine check‑in where everyone speaks uninterrupted.
• Admit when you’re not “fine” instead of performing competence.
• Create moments of shared play — music, movement, creativity — without apology.
• Notice who is packing away the metaphorical drums while others gather socially.
• Invite the quietest voice in before closing conversations.
• Resist rushing back to “normal” without asking who that normal excluded.
• Celebrate difference without commercialising or diluting it.

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One thing to remember

Belonging isn’t built by standing in the centre — it’s built by showing up as yourself and inviting others to do the same.