Why I cannot approach people...

No Dating Diaries gets...intense this week around rejection

This is going to be a grueling one to write—I am going to be painfully honest I am fueled by an edible to write this along with homework from my therapist. The hurdle of rejection continues to be one I simply cannot overcome—and I am going to just share why in hopes that the fear of being perceived in my reaction to rejection and seen in this painfully vulnerable way allows me to move with more bravery.

Rejection fucking blows—universally. This is a truth that I think all humans, no matter your level of self esteem, can recognize as something painful. We see it in the responses to that both real and perceived rejection—sometimes people lash out, they shut down, they close out, they avoid.

I view rejection as a sort of umbrella emotion—with layers deep similar to anger—there is always so much more under the surface and multiple emotional experiences at once.

My issue with rejection is my inherent reaction to internalize that rejection as a personal failing.

Trust and believe I have journaled, watched videos, attended workshops, purchased crystals, done rituals on how I can learn and truly believe that rejection is “redirection” and rejection often has less to do with me and more to do with the inner workings of the other person.

I get there eventually but not without weathering the worst mental storm—picture Sisyphus and the stone, that is me with my negative core beliefs. Romantic rejection is so high stakes for me.

These negative beliefs are a result of nature and nurture which I think most people find hard to conceptualize. By nature of my existence and how I present and have presented my entire life the following beliefs have been formed:

• I am ugly/unattractive thus unlovable

• I am fat which makes me ugly/unattractive thus unlovable

• I am chronically ill and no one wants to deal with that because it makes me less abled thus ugly/unattractive so unlovable

• (thankfully I experience this less now but as a child) I am Black which makes me ugly/unattractive thus unlovable

The nurture comes in the fact that a lot of my upbringing confirmed these beliefs. When I did approach people or confess my interest in them I received confirmation that those parts of my existence were as unattractive as I believed, thus making me undateable and unlovable.

My parents were the nail in the coffin. Someday I will write about growing up with some of the most selfish and self centered parents who never even inquired about me or my feelings about what is was like having parents who chose themselves and their egos over my safety, happiness, and emotional development. Repeated emotional rejection in the home from the two people who are supposed to be nothing but accepting truly fucks with your brain. However, that is a post (or series) for another day. I will just say all of these factors came together to create the perfect storm.

I experienced enough emotional rejection at home and multiple experiences with crushes and romantic interests growing up that have left me in a state of freeze.

I now live a life of expected rejection. I simply don’t say anything and don’t approach anyone because I am of the belief that my hopes and expectations will never come to fruition. That no one I am interested in could possibly be interested in me. And if I do say something it’s because I have overanalyzed the situation so much and/or the signs were so clear that my margin for error is less than 5%.

Yes, I do a risk assessment before I express interest in someone— measuring the likelihood in which I am to have my feelings reciprocated by someone I am interested in. Yes, it is exhausting to think that much about everything.

Because it is less about the exact person and their rejection in that moment and more about the things that rejection stirs up for me that is then associated with that person. It makes those situations so high stakes for me because my self perception is on the line. I don’t leave situations of rejection hating the other person—I turn that feeling inward. The thoughts I have about the other person are just unanswered questions—trying to understand what things I lacked that made them uninterested.

Trust and believe me when I say your exhaustion reading this is how fucking exhausted I am experiencing it in real time, in my own freaking head. Part of me learning and understanding this about myself is what spurred the No Dating Diaries. What is it like to form relationships with no preconceived notions especially romantic ones. What is it like to potentially find myself romantically interested in people and just experience a crush —without shame, without emotional dis-regulation, without this very narrow idea of is my “end game.”

And I have had many! Who knew having crushes could be healing, but here I am. I have had a few recently—some have burned out naturally. Some are going very strong and growing. Some may result in me having to face this fear head on. It is like a muscle you must work out after all. But not moving with this narrow intention has allowed me to start asking myself big questions. Like how do I FEEL, why do I like them, what would it be like to experience rejection and what tools do I have to FEEL the rejection versus internalize and ruminate.

I wrote kicking off this series and my Substack about how RSD is in fact killing me—because it is—but even Sisyphus cheated death and found his way out of the underworld. And I want that for myself more than I have wanted anything because for the first time I see so clearly how it impacts every facet of my life.

Okay— this is enough for one day—I am feeling some anxiety and warming in my chest about you all reading about my inability to self regulate after rejection. This feels like one of my most vulnerable shares—one of the ones that makes me wonder if any will love me after sharing so much.

But I love my enough to share this scary post, this real lived experience because I want the healing. I trust myself to know sharing this is a big leap in honoring what rejection has made me feel in the past, and that I can learn to hold and handle it centering myself with care and compassion moving forward.

My hope is less Sisyphus and more —well as though Sisyphus could take a break and the boulder reached the top—but I won’t mind if I have to con my way to acceptance and compassion either LOL!

As long as I keep on moving…