Rejection can be a beautiful thing.
Iβm not a sentimental person. I donβt keep a lot of stuff, partly because I move frequently and mostly because Iβm already a sensitive person and I donβt need that kind of filler in my life. So it is a small miracle that I have a folder filled with things that I wrote from when I was in high school.
I wasnβt exactly what youβd call popular with the boys but that didnβt stop me from asking them out. Unfortunately that didnβt stop them from saying, No, either. And even though I appeared supremely confident, these Nos were body blows to my teeny weenie self esteem.
So I started a list. On the left side of the paper was βwhat went wrongβ (for example, rejected after asking Brian to the sophomore prom), and on the right side I wrote what I had βlearned from the experienceβ.
And after I had filled the page with wrongs and rights, I saw my list as a list of accomplishments, strangely enough. I was putting myself out there like a dangling participle, mercifully. My list was a story in itself. It also helped that school counselor, Mr. Kelly, told me that high school boys were stupid.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Anyway, all this rejection made me appreciate my risk taking ways. Iβm an Asian American teaching English in Thailand (white isnβt the only color of English), and Iβm sharing this because when I told my friend I was going to meet another AA living in Thailand who I just met through her blog, he said, βReally?β as in, Lani, I canβt believe you asked a complete stranger out.
Yeah. But! I like meeting friends this way. For some odd ball reason, Iβm very good at walking up to complete strangers and talking to them (Oh, honey, the stories I could tell you). Itβs just in this case, I see she is living in the same town as me and why not? I like getting to know people.
Iβve met several folks through blogging and itβs been spectacular. I even had one couple give me a pair of gorgeous earrings from the States after they flew to Thailand. (They found my blog and we met.) Overall my meetings have gone on to lovely friendships but they donβt always work this way.
In fact, I was beating myself up (not literally, internally) over why I couldnβt deal with the fact that a couple of relationships had gone belly up. Why didnβt they understand me? Why did I hang on? Why did I allow myself to get hurt?
But once I realized I needed to accept that I cannot change the way I am perceived (Iβve tried that before with my Waldorf job, and it doesnβt work), I started to feel better and let my fears and failures – go.
I also realized I bought into this perception of scarcity. As in, Iβm an expat in Thailand and there are a limited amount of expats, and therefore a limited amount of special close friends. Okay, I didnβt think those exact words, but I felt that way when I was hurt/worried/confused as to why folks werenβt treating me the way I wanted to be treated.
I thought, who else is going to like me?! Why donβt you like me? What did I do wrong? Why donβt you get me? >>>Now, isnβt this horribly stupid? So Iβm thinking rejection is this idea of scarcity. If you fire me, if you donβt give me this job, if you say NO to my proposal then others will say NO too. If you donβt like me, who will?
Whatβs interesting is, whenever I was nursing a broken heart during those tender teenage/20-something years, my mom always told me, βThere is plenty of fish in the seaβ. But as I got older, I have stopped believing in the abundance of good decent fishes. Again, I bought into this belief of scarcity.
Rejection has been explained as one door closing and waiting for another one to open, but Iβm thinking we need to tweak the metaphor, one that doesnβt feel like the door has been slammed inches from your face.
Rejection is being shown the door (thank you, quit pushin’) and realizing there are lots of other doors to explore (hey!).








Comments create conversations. Let’s talk.