On rejection

"You could be prettier,” he said.
He then added,
“You could have a more feminine face.
And you could be skinnier.”

And that was that. This was the third time I was rejected by a man in a year.

That's a lot, huh? I could go on thinking, oh it must be true. I am too fat. Too obnoxious. Too ugly. Too manly looking. Too fiery. But that isn’t the case.

I would be lying if I said I don’t give a damn what other people think of me. I do. I most definitely do, but to an extent. I approve of myself. I think I am pretty. I think I am badass. And I think that I am who I am for a reason. However, that’s not what I’m writing this for.

You see, it is no coincidence that I keep coming up against the same experience. Being rejected is many people’s worst fear. We go out of our ways, and in many ways conform, out of the fear of being rejected.

Being rejected stings. It screams “YOU ARE NOT ENOUGH AS YOU ARE!”. It sucker punches you from behind and then kicks you while you’re down.

However, it teaches us just as much as it hurts us. It reminds us that we have to choice to let the daggers of rejection skim our shoulders without stabbing us. It reminds us, that no, we are not for everyone (and that’s a good thing)! It humbles us, and forces us to become more firmly rooted in our being. It makes us look at ourselves on the inside, and (can) strengthen our beliefs about ourselves. And most of all, it allows all that is not meant for us to move along, so we are available for what is meant for us.

As I spoke to a few people close friends about my experience, all of them had the same response, “Are you fucking kidding me!? What did you say back?! He says YOU’RE not PRETTY enough for him?!! Fuck him!”

And I have laughed at the absurdity. I didn’t say anything mean back. What would I get out of saying hurtful things to him? Assurance that I hurt him as he hurt me? Hurt people, hurt people. Read that again. Read it over and over again until it is cemented in your consciousness. Hurt people, hurt people. It’s something I have learned the hard way, and it is something I still recognize daily. I have hurt people out of fear of being hurt. It’s a sad existence.

So you’re probably wondering, how did I react? Well, I just said, “huh, that’s interesting. I feel I am decent looking. And I like myself. So I guess that’s your opinion.” I was a little drunk, otherwise I would have walked the rest of the way home. Not out of spite, but out of respect for myself. As we sat quietly, I felt his eyes searching my profile for a reaction. He said, “how does that make you feel?”

I turned half facing him and said, “It doesn’t really make me feel any which way, it just shows me how you feel.”

How you feel about me, how it is a reflection of yourself, how hurt you must have been in the past, how afraid you are of connection and hey, you really are not attracted to me.

To put things into perspective, this guy is someone I found interesting. I know, I know, if you are my good friend you are rolling your eyes (I’m talking to you Cam and Brendan). He is bizarre. He HATES religion (his reasoning is interesting), he hates people knowing his business, he is extremely clever, good at what he does, and (I think) has difficulty connecting with others.

I was curious, very curious. And hey, he was catching my drift. We went to drinks. We went exploring. And it didn’t work out.

I know, I know, rejection still hurts regardless if we have strong positive beliefs about ourselves. Yes, it does. And there is beauty in the hurt. It reminds us that we are social creatures. It reminds us that yes, we do have a heart, and it can be hurt. I get it now. I will keep on coming up with the same experiences until I tune into what it is that is being taught.

I am emotionally unavailable. I have been avoiding that statement now for a year. I have found multiple almost relationships and one real deal. Guess what happened with the “real” relationship? I ended it. I sabotaged it. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t able to be the person he needed me to be. I wasn’t able to be emotionally committed. I wasn’t being my best self, and that is what relationships are about-- being the highest version of yourself while simultaneously helping the other do the same.

So yes, rejection hurts. However, I believe it happens for us. Not to us.

Maybe you disagree. That’s okay. Like I said, that’s your opinion. If you’re open to adopting a different outlook, try on what I said just for shits and giggles. Who knows, it might fit.

On getting crossed

Hate looks really bad on me. So does resentment. My eyes become perma-bloodshot and my skin breaks out. I am constantly overheated and I don’t sleep soundly. You think I’m kidding (or out of my mind), I’m not. You have probably heard the saying that hating someone or something is like drinking your own poison. For me, it quite literally feels like that.

I was hurt. Then I was sad. Then I was angry. So effing (your welcome mom for not cussing) angry. I wanted to spit fire, yet I knew better not to. What would I get in return to react and hurt another? Why was I angry? Because someone did not like me and find me attractive? Because someone was straight up rude to me? Because I believe the things they said? Nope, I was angry because my ego was threatened. I was angry because I had treated them very kindly and put out my hand when I felt it was dangerous. I was angry because I felt I had received a wrath I did not deserve. I was angry because it’s easier to feel angry than to feel hurt.

And just like that the anger is recognized. However, my body has paid for it.

So how do I let go of anger? How do I let go of hurt? How do I act lovingly to myself when I have to see that person every day? How do I act lovingly to them when I just want to teach them they cannot treat others in that way? The answer is simple--stay grounded and keep my energy internal. For someone like me, that is a challenging practice that needs maintaining every day. What does that mean? It means for me to recognize my emotions, their flighty nature and to focus on my heart. I know that sounds corny, and maybe it is. For me, it works. I am a visual and kinesthetic person, so this makes sense to me. As I touch my sternum, I feel grounded. I feel warmth and I feel a knowing that I will be okay. I feel lucky to have this practice because it’s incredibly simple. No, I am not religious, though I may be a witch. And no, it likely won’t work for you because you are different than I. And I am different than you.

Letting go of what hurts us, in this case anger, is a choice.

Anger goes hand in hand with being a fiery person. That, I definitely am. Watery too. A bizarre mix. I am constantly looking for ways to balance the two. Be kind, yet hold boundaries. Be empathetic, yet feisty. Be deep, yet wild. I am reminded of my nature; that I am not perfect, and I am trying my damned best to be my best self. And that's what matters, right? To go to sleep each night knowing I touched others hearts and I lived my day with the intention of kindness.

With that, I realize, this too is just another experience to teach me to balance the two.