On Rejection – and Why We Should Let Others Do It

Being rejected, cast out, left alone and unloved is one of my biggest fear, if not the biggest. Because, you know, no clan and no safety mean imminent death by tiger.

My loveliest of guides once advised to become comfortable with not being liked, as the closer you get to your own true self, the more truth you bear, the more uncomfortable you will become to be around for more and more people. As always, C – you were right.

I remember that conversation, but I have never really confronted that fear. I have thought about it in abstracts and logical terms, have referred to it inside and outside my own head, but not sat with it and in it.

Do you remember Hiccup? The dragon riding Viking that just wasn’t quite Viking enough? Twice he gets told to “just be less of … this”, with a gesture encompassing all of him. When he does not, the result is a dark, threatening “you are no son of mine”.

In my experience, at the beginning, most people are much more subtle in telling you to be less of yourself to make them more comfortable. But do believe me, whether you want to look at it or not, the (unspoken) threat is “or you won’t be a son/ daughter/ friend/ spouse/ lover of mine”. I am quite sure if you resist that change long enough, they will tell you to your face.

There were instances where I noticed people telling me to “be less”. In all but one case it was more of a feeling I’ve got, than an outright “I can’t deal with you, if you are like this”, but they were there, and I thought I dealt with it quite well, resigning myself to be someone that can only be tolerated for so long, a friend in small doses. That’s it, though, I thought, not felt, not truly accepted.

It is the universe’s way to repeat lessons you haven’t learnt, making them more severe with each iteration – so somewhere in the last year, the whispers of “don’t be like that” started to come from sources closer to home, closer to my heart…

I didn’t even notice that I gave in. Didn’t notice the bits and pieces of myself that I left along the way. Didn’t notice the bargains I was word- and thoughtlessly trying to strike to not be left, to be less uncomfortable to be around, to be less uncomfortable to talk to.

“Don’t reject me, don’t leave me – here, I’ll give you this”

Now I stand here, looking back along the road, seeing my precious, lovely, baby girl self at the beginning of if, left behind by me, left alone, rejected. I can see all the steps I’ve taken away from her, each marked by a piece of myself, dropped carelessly, each representing an instance where I myself have told me to “be less” and listened.

I am sorry baby girl. I am so sorry I have done this to you.

No one else but me could have done this to me. No one could have hurt me this way, except myself.

Yes, I have no doubt that hearing the words “don’t talk to me ever again” or “you are no […] of mine” or being ghosted, or any other variation of rejection would have hurt. Would have made me unspeakably sad, would have required that I mourn that relationship, let it go. But it would not have been a rejection of myself, my core, me. It would have been a rejection of what the other person feels when I’m around.

What I’ve done is far worse, because I have rejected me, my inner self. And truly, no one else really can do that.

I hope the lesson holds this time – because it hurts and there’s a lot of pieces to pick back up, and a lot of trust in myself to win back.

And just in case you were wondering – no, it does not work. I might have not been outright turned away, but I lost connectedness.