Vicar - when someone is in an 'isolated' community, they can view the rest of the world with distrust, uncertainty, wariness, fear at worst, or just feel forever outside it, at best. Even in an integrated community, their community has prime place, and everything else is 'other'. The police force is 'other', support groups are 'other'.
I grew up in a group which had religious and racial differences, although looking at me you wouldn't know it (a white European background) and visually and linguistically I blended in. But there were constant 'little' things that kept me isolated. My Saturday mornings were taken up learning my 'cultural' language. So I couldn't socialise with friends not within the community at that time. Sundays were religious days (morning and evening!). I only had about 4 hours free time during the day, so again usually spent it with friends of the same culture. This had the effect of leaving a slight distance between myself and friends at school. I 'seemed' fairly popular and was a part of a number of groups. But that was a survival mechanism for me, by spreading my time over a few groups no one group realised just how little time I spent with any school friends outside of school time.
The constant little comments from elders in the group were demoralising. From my grandmother begging me not to get my drivers licence so that my future husband could drive me around, or begging me not get my hair cut because I wouldn't be able to wash and dry Jesus' feet, the constant derogatory comments when my sisters and I wore jeans instead of skirts. Comments about wearing make up (with a subtext of being a whore although noone actually said that
). Women were not allowed a position of authority over men in the church. In church shoulders had to be covered so no strappy tops, or even sleeveless tops and definitely no trousers. NONE of my school friends knew about this because I didn't share it with them. I DID cut my hair, I did get my licence, I wore jeans as often as I bloody well could. But it all came with agro. It was a constant fight.
In a small community when something about you becomes common knowledge it is part of your identity forever (and ever and ever). You hear all about great uncle so and so who did such and such when he was 20 years old (even though he is now 75 years old). You learn to become secretive. You learn to keep things to yourself. You don't share inner family secrets with anyone outside of the immediate family. You share other things with your extended family but no one else in the community, etc, etc.
But I was strong, my sisters were also strong (but in many ways not as strong as me) and fortunately for us our mother was supportive. I married outside of the community, as did over half of my siblings. We all worked in good jobs. However, there was a lot of alcohol abuse in the community, and while my immediately family was free of it, there was a lot of it in the extended family and now one of my sisters has become an abuser of alcohol. Another of my sisters married within the community but to a 'bad' member - he drank alcohol - and was ostracised. He was an abuser, it took her years to speak up and leave him. Her MIL knew without being told though, and just advised her to drink 'camphor'
. Clearly she had suffered the same abuse from her own husband. If you left your husband you were not permitted to remarry and stay within the church.
I would raise merry hell to protect someone else, but I rarely told others if there was anything bad going on in my private life. It's taken me many years to change that, and to share things with my friends.
It's isolating, and you learn to live within yourself and your small sphere. It's a conditioning.