Red Descendants: I Tried to Be Part of the Crew & Got Left Out

Trying to join a group can feel like diving into the deep end. Sometimes you make a splash. Other times, well… you end up flailing. Let me tell you about my attempt to join the Red Descendants. I thought I was walking into a tight-knit, elite crew. Instead, I got shown the door—without even a goodbye.

Fast forward to the moment I realized I wasn’t even in the running. No one told me that part.

The First Glimpse of the Red Descendants

Alright, let’s back up. The Red Descendants—sounds kinda cool, right? Like some secret society, but with less cloak-and-dagger stuff, and more skills, knowledge, and respect. That’s how I imagined it. And naturally, I was all in. I heard about them from a friend—who was totally a fanboy—and it was all: “They’re legends!” “You gotta join, it’s next-level!”

I thought, “This is it. My big break.”

I did what any new hopeful would do: I researched. Watched the videos, read the forums, and even joined some unofficial chats. Every time I tried to chat with people, it felt like walking into an exclusive VIP lounge, all velvet ropes and hidden handshakes. But still, I was determined. So, I went for it.

The Process: Like Getting Into a Secret Club—But Harder

Here’s where things get fun. Becoming a part of the Red Descendants? Well, it wasn’t a walk in the park. I’m talking about a process. Think applying for a job, but also needing to prove you’ve got the skills AND the cool factor.

I had to show up. A lot. Attend events. Participate. Drop knowledge in chats. Basically, if you didn’t show you were worthy, they weren’t having it. I did my best. My heart raced every time I hit “Send” on a message in the group chat. I’d ask questions, contribute to discussions—anything to fit in.

Here’s the kicker: I thought I was doing fine. But then… silence.

I wasn’t hearing back from anyone. Not even a “Good job!” or “Nice try!” It was like I was invisible.

The First Red Flags: Oh, So THAT’S What’s Happening

Okay, so picture this: You’ve been chatting up a storm, doing all the “right” things, and you get invited to a big event. It’s your time to shine, right? You prepare, you put on your best “I’m a valuable member” face, and you show up… and get snubbed. Hard.

• They give you the smallest task possible. Like, you’re handling the water bottles while everyone else gets the cool jobs.
• Your suggestions? Crickets. And when you throw out an idea, it’s immediately shot down—like the time I suggested adding oregano to my spaghetti sauce and my cousin nearly cried. It wasn’t a “no thanks.” It was a “nah, we’re good.”
• Conversations? Well, those don’t involve you. The main group makes decisions without so much as a glance at you, even though you’ve been there, physically present, the whole time.

After the first few hours of watching rather than participating, I started to get the picture. I was on the outside looking in. And believe me, I could practically hear the metaphorical door slam shut.

The Unwritten Rules: More Secrets Than a Mafia Movie

You need to know this: The Red Descendants had some serious, unspoken rules. The kind you only find out by making mistakes. Here’s the deal:

• Hierarchy: There’s a big difference between the veterans and, well, the rest of us. Some people were just naturally in the loop. I wasn’t one of them. I’d walk into a conversation, and it’d go silent. Was I missing something? Yes, yes I was.
• Secret Knowledge: There’s a knowledge pool only for the inner circle. I’m talking about secret handshakes (okay, maybe not literal handshakes, but the vibe was there). Everyone else was excluded from these vital tidbits of info. I mean, how was I supposed to get anywhere if no one would explain anything to me?
• Cliques: Remember high school? Yeah. Same vibe. There were these tight groups who would huddle up and talk about things from their “shared history.” Yeah, I wasn’t invited to that.

I didn’t know what I was doing wrong. It felt like I’d missed a memo—or was just… not cool enough to be in the gang.

The “Aha!” Moment: Wait, I’m Not Part of the Crew, Am I?

Then came the turning point.

There was this big event—I’d worked for weeks to prove my worth. I showed up. I did everything I was supposed to. And in the middle of it, I realized… this wasn’t my crew. This wasn’t my tribe.

It was like realizing your best friend forgot your birthday. I had been working, contributing, but somehow wasn’t being pulled into the fold.

It hit me. Hard.

• I was handed the worst tasks—nothing too big or “important.”
• I wasn’t asked for input, not even once. It felt like my voice didn’t even matter.
• Key decisions? They were being made in backrooms, without me.

Fast forward past a few more failed attempts to get noticed, and I knew: I wasn’t getting in.

So… Why Wasn’t I in the Inner Circle?

At this point, I started to wonder what the heck was going on. I had tried everything: showed up, worked hard, tried to bond, didn’t immediately complain when things weren’t going my way. I even spent a whole afternoon Googling “How to Fit Into Exclusive Groups” (don’t judge me).

But, the answer was clear: I didn’t fit their mold. And here’s where I laugh at myself: Maybe I just wasn’t cool enough. The veterans? They had their own unspoken language, a bond I couldn’t touch. No matter how much I worked at it, I was always going to be the outsider. I wasn’t part of the original crew.

Anyway, here’s the kicker: I didn’t belong there, and that’s okay.

The Lessons I Learned: Turns Out, Rejection Can Teach You Stuff

Was it disappointing? Absolutely. Did I walk away with some scars on my ego? Sure. But let me tell you: I also walked away with lessons. Big ones.

• Know When to Walk Away: I learned to accept that not all groups are meant for me. No matter how much I wanted to fit in, I had to let go. Sometimes, you just don’t vibe with a crew—and that’s fine.
• Look for the Right Group: Rejection made me realize: there’s a community out there that’s better for me. And one that will actually let me bring something to the table.
• Stick with What’s Right for You: The experience made me think long and hard about what I truly want in a group. It’s not just about exclusivity or “elite” status. It’s about respect and support.

What’s Next After the Red Descendants?

So here’s where I am now. Leaving the Red Descendants wasn’t the end of the world. It just meant I needed to find something that worked for me. And trust me, I’m already on the lookout for a crew where I can actually contribute—and be valued.

As for the Red Descendants, well, maybe they’ve found their perfect crew dynamic. And I? I’m building my own.

In the end, rejection can suck—but it also teaches you to keep looking until you find the right fit. And honestly, I’m better off.