I Don’t Like Groups. And Here’s Why.
I Don’t Like Groups. And Here’s Why.
People often misunderstand me when I say it.
I don’t like groups.
Not because I’m cold. Or broken. Or antisocial.
But because somewhere in my bones, I remember.
There’s a vision that lives in me.
A flock of sheep—soft, joyful, baaing in unison— gathered together beneath the bright sun, joking, brushing against one another, laughing like they’re on a picnic.
And the shepherd walks ahead, crook in hand, leading them calmly, warmly,
to the slaughterhouse.
And no one resists.
Except one.
One sheep peels off—
Something in her ancient blood knows. She ducks under the hedge, scratches her skin on branches,
refuses to move.
The shepherd chases her.
Annoyed. Inconvenienced.
Because she won’t just be like the rest. She won’t fall in line.
She’s making this more complicated than it needs to be.
But the sheep—she knows.
She knows that what waits at the end of that joyful march is a butchershop.
Not a meadow.
And that sheep?
That’s me.
People confuse joy with safety.
They think if everyone’s laughing, the danger must be gone.
If the tea is warm and the room is complete, we must be okay.
But I’ve learned—sometimes the group is the spell.
Sometimes it’s the group that leads you away from your knowing.
Away from your soul.
Right into the jaws of something that will eat you whole.
So no, I don’t like groups.
I like one-to-one.
Clean energy.
Real coherence.
Silent seeing.
I like eight people on a mountain trail,
Not a circle of thirty pretending they’re healed.
I like eye contact.
Not crowd approval.
I’ve seen what happens when people give up their clarity for comfort.
When they trade their gut for guidance.
When they outsource truth
Because belonging feels warmer than sovereignty.
But I will not be led to slaughter by smiles.
The group mind will not anesthetise me.
I will not betray my vision
To avoid being alone.
I don’t like groups.
Because I still love my soul more than applause.
And that is what has saved me
Every time.
Delahrose
The seer who sees
