My Friend Rejected Me, but I’m Not Ready to Let Go!

Dear Dr. NerdLove,

Thank you for your column–I have learned so much from your kind and thoughtful writing and I hope you can help me. Long story short, after a years-long friendship with a great man who is slightly on the autism spectrum, I realized I love him. I told him this in a very uncomplicated way. His reaction was to put his head down on the table and tell me he was not ready, can we put a pin in this discussion. He started telling me about a girlfriend he presumably had that he recently broke up with, several states away. He never once told me about this woman in all the years we have been friends, having long dinners together, even with my parents. Two days later, he came to my office and was all keyed up and would not sit down, saying he did something really stupid, that he called her again. I assume they are back together, if she even exists. But I am too hurt to ask more, and I also would not want to make a liar out of him if he made her up, which I strongly suspect. But he did say something that I do believe. He said “I value our friendship, and I’m no good at this, and would probably only mess it up.”

So, we have both worked hard to maintain our friends-only status for the past several months, but it is a real struggle for me. I very much want to stay friends because our friendship slowly grew over many years. He and I are college professors (different departments) and have a great deal in common, including being minorities in several ways. So, he is one of the only people in my small local community that I trust and can talk to. On this, he feels the same. I am four years older than him (he is 39 and I am 43) and I had figured that I was done with those kinds of feelings. To realize that I could have these feelings after two abusive relationships many years ago was a real revelation. One of his great points is, he had made friends with my father, who was a custodian at our college before retiring. How people treated my father was an important sign to me. This man also won over my mother, who is your ultimate cynic. They both like him. Neither of us has kids or financial complications or any other complications besides our social awkwardness. And I came to see him for the generous, creative, amazing man he is, even though not traditionally good looking, and of course a bit different, socially.

I also guess I was under the impression that we were both on the same quasi-romantic page, and that we were simply waiting for him to get tenured. Even though I really had to pluck my courage up to tell him my feelings, I also did not think he would crush my heart. I have not shared my hurt with him because I see no point. Sometimes I feel he rejected me simply because he is afraid. Other times I can only assume he just thinks I’m undesirable in that way. Talking to him about all these things is challenging, not only because talking about feelings is not his thing, but also because of our hectic schedules.

And also, a lot of our friendship now apparently has to be on his terms. That is, I really enjoy his company and want to spend more time with him. And perhaps to get some answers. But I cannot expect any more than what was our original friendship level of contact, can I? All of the websites say that to get over a guy, you have to do self-care, limit contact, etc. But even as friends, he just does not initiate with people, so that means I could run the risk of never seeing him again.

I also know that I could do some inner work to truly friend-zone him in my own mind, so that I feel no attraction to him. But the problem is that once I do such a thing, there would be no going back, without very hard work on his part, which I have doubts would happen based on how hard we had worked to be able to just talk to each other, period. Yet I have a gut feeling that one day, he might just be ready to go to the next level. In fact, I have made sure to keep the door open, letting him know that I would check in with him now and again, because people and feelings change. Given he has not ghosted me, and given how courtly he can be with me at times, I assume he is okay with this.

But as we start summer, I find that I want to spend more time with him. I will be finishing a leadership term and have free time coming. But he wants, and probably needs at his career stage, to spend time in the lab. This was okay in previous years because I’d just drop by his building and hang out. I had an easy excuse to go there too, because my director (essentially boss) was in the same building. But my director is moving on. And last time I went to his lab, I just did not feel welcome, which I know is 100% in my head.

So the problem is that I want/need to friend-zone this guy without friend-zoning him in a way where I have zero attraction to him, rendering any future chance impossible. Is there a way to do such a thing?

Totally Surprised

I empathize, TS; it sucks when you have feelings for someone, especially when you’ve had those feelings for a while, only to find out that they’re not into you the way that you’re into them. And I can understand how the mere fact that you have those feelings feels incredibly revelatory, even miraculous, considering that you’ve been through a series of abusive relationships. It’s great that you’ve managed to keep the callus off your soul and still be open to love. So the fact that he doesn’t return your feelings? Yeah, that’s gonna hurt.

But what makes it worse is when you’re not willing to accept it. Not fully. I’m a big believer in keeping hope alive, but there comes a point where it’s not hope so much as an attempt to deny what’s plainly in front of you.

Seriously. I get that he’s special to you and you have strong feelings. But, like a lot of people with Oneitis, your issue is that your feelings aren’t about him, but about what he represents. I get that he represents romantic possibility for you – that you can still love and want to be loved and have a relationship despite the abuse you went through. I get that he represents safety, especially compared to the previous men in your life. And honestly, that’s all great! But you’re not realizing that this isn’t about him. All of these things that he’s brought out in you – your capacity to love and want to be loved, the realization that good and safe men exist in this world – are about you! They’re signs of what you are still capable of, about how the abuse hasn’t broken you! That’s amazing! You should celebrate that!

But that doesn’t mean that he is your dream man, just the man who helped you realize these things. You’ve reached a point where you’re not holding out hope for him but the person you want him to be. You’ve built up your vision of who he is and what you have together, and you’ve run headlong into the conflict between what’s a fantasy and what’s real.

As much as I hate to say it, this seems to be a long-running issue between you and him, where you’re making a lot of assumptions that aren’t in evidence and shifting things around in your head to justify those assumptions. You never once spoke about your feelings for him until very recently, yet you were working under the belief that he also felt the same way and was just waiting for the right time to reveal them. That’s a great set up for a slow-burn romance novel set in academia, but it’s a recipe for easily avoided heartbreak in the real world. As a general rule, it’s a bad idea to pin your hopes on unspoken expectations, in no small part because you have no real idea whether the other person shares those expectations. This is why I keep telling people that they need to use their words, even when doing so feels like taking a risk; if you haven’t actually talked about it, you can’t be sure you’re actually on the same page.

And then, well… something like this happens. You had this dream – a very understandable, very relatable dream – and you wanted it to be true. Like a lot of people, you were apparently reading the tea leaves and seeing what you hoped to see and were rounding a close friendship up to love. But the problem is: it was always just that: a dream.

Even now, you seem to be unwilling to actually accept this. I know you never believed he’d crush your heart… and he hasn’t! He just doesn’t share your feelings. The strength of your emotions isn’t a sign of the strength of his, nor are they a contract between the two off you. They don’t obligate him to love you back, no matter how much you wish he would. But caring for him and wanting him to continue to be an important person in your life does mean that you have to accept what he says and let this go. All you’re doing now is setting up a series of excuses that you can point to as reasons why you should still hold out hope.

Let’s take the part about how he’s never mentioned his girlfriend to you prior to revealing it when you confessed your feelings. You keep suggesting that maybe she doesn’t actually exist, as though that means something relevant to your situation. While I can easily see a number of reasons why someone – especially someone who’s autistic – may not have mentioned the existence of a girlfriend, whether she’s real or imaginary is ultimately irrelevant.

If she is real, then the fact that he’s still in a “break-up-get-back-together” cycle with her means that he’s not in a great place to be dating in the first place and he’s self-aware enough to know this. But even if she’s 100% fictional, that doesn’t change things. Her theoretical existence isn’t the impediment to a romance with you; the fact that he doesn’t want that kind of relationship with you is.

His inventing a girlfriend just means that he’s trying to soften the blow so that it doesn’t feel as harsh. It’s a socially plausible reason why you can’t date – it’s not that you’re undesirable or that he doesn’t like you, it’s simply cold, cruel fate and bad timing, oh well, nothing to be done, let’s just be friends.

None of this is to say that he doesn’t love you – just not in the way that you wish he did. He values your friendship, he thinks you’re very special and important to him, and he doesn’t want to date you. That stings, I know. Nobody likes hearing that, especially from folks we have feelings for. But you don’t have to like it. You just have to accept it. And you aren’t. And that’s a problem.

I mean, we get to the end of your letter and you’re talking about how you’re still holding out hope that if you just stick with it for long enough, his feelings will change. That gut feeling you’re talking about? That’s not your intuition, that’s wishful thinking and the willingness to disregard what the world is telling you. It’s great to trust your gut, but only if your gut is actually trustworthy, and considering the evidence thus far, I think it’s safe to say that it is not. Your gut told you that you and he were going to get together after he got tenure after all.

I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear, but at the end of the day, you need to just accept things for how they are and stop trying to build this permission structure justify not accepting it. It doesn’t matter why he doesn’t want to date you – whether he’s afraid, or not into you like that or what. You don’t need answers, because you already have them, you just don’t like them, and you’re hoping that if you ask the question juuuuust right, you’ll get different ones.

And you won’t. You’re holding onto this feeling that there’s some way you can turn this around – some switch you can flip or thing you can change. There isn’t. The only thing that needs to happen is that you need to give yourself closure and let yourself move on.

That doesn’t mean that you have to cut him out of your life, nor does it mean that you can’t be friends. It does, however, mean you have to stop making assumptions. You’re assuming things based on your expectations and beliefs, not on actual facts or even things he’s said. Has he said he’s holding open the possibility of dating? No. So don’t assume it for him. If he hasn’t said the words, then you have to take it for granted that that’s not how he’s feeling. Especially since your gut feelings have not been accurate.

Let this go. Let yourself mourn the end of a dream, but realize that’s all you’re mourning. He’s still your friend. You’re still his friend. You still have the capacity for love and for hope and for dreams of the future. It won’t be with him, that’s all. The sooner you’re ready to face that, the sooner you’ll find that love… with your best friend by your side, offering you his support.

Good luck.

***

Hey Doc,

Close to a decade ago, I wrote you what was a pretty standard letter: recent break-up after relationship from teens to early thirties, full of self-loathing, seeking permission to stop trying. You know the one, it shows up every couple of weeks.

Since then, and in part thanks to your advice, I did a lot better. Yeah, I dated, but more importantly I like myself these days. I have great hobbies and varied interests, curiosity, great friends I have the courage to actually talk to openly (while knowing the difference between talking and trauma dumping), a job I like. I’m medicated for my anxiety and have learned healthy copying methods. However, I have recently broken up from another long-term relationship.

Now, my fear isn’t what it was before, that I’m ugly and unlovable (I’m mean, I probably looked better a decade ago, but I’m more confident and understand the difference between “unattractive” and “can’t pose for shit in photos” these days). I have family and friends who love me, and I like me. I’m in no huge rush to date again, but I do like meeting people and getting to know them and what can follow, so hopefully one day.

No, my fear is that I might get lonely and that self-loathing will creep back, or if and when I do date again, maybe that dark voice is in there somewhere still and when rejections happen, it’ll pipe up to convince me that because I’m inherently “less than.” I would say I’m bad with rejection, but I don’t really have any evidence of that – I was a prolific pre-rejector, and I don’t want to be that again. Buuuut, rejection will happen if I allow myself to be brave and vulnerable enough to try and make and foster new connections. And that raises the worry I’ll seek validation, not connection, again.

In short, I’m worried my confidence and resilience are built on sand, and I can’t be me a decade ago again, even if he did have some good sad indie records. This isn’t even a problem yet, exactly, but I want to get ahead of it – how do I make sure that my ugly (spiritually!) old self doesn’t re-emerge like Jason Vorhees in the lake? Those were dark days – there were shots of booze that still make me wretch to think about.

Oh But He’s Back

Quick question, OBHB: have you stopped to read all the stuff you said in your letter about all the work you’ve done and all the changes you’ve made?

I ask you this because I think you should. I’m sure you’ve seen the memetic cliché that goes around the Internet like Haley’s Comet – before you diagnose yourself with depression, first make sure you’re not surrounded by assholes. The point is to recognize that sometimes the way we feel is the result of the world around us, not something inherent within ourselves. The same basic advice applies here: before you decide your old self is digging out of its grave, make sure that you’re not actually falling back into old patterns. After all, it seems like a lot of the reason for your misery back then wasn’t about anything intrinsic to you as a person, so much as the circumstances you were living under.

This is why I think you should re-read it and think about just how much time and effort went into making those changes, how different your life is now from what it was like back then. How much of the way you were back in the bad old days were due to things you didn’t understand about yourself and needs that were going unmet? How many of those feelings were based around self-limiting beliefs, rampant anxiety and mistaken ideas about what you were capable of? What percentage of the life you used to endure were due to the way you were living, rather than being core parts of who you were?

You were living a life where you felt deeply insecure and unmoored. You had issues needed to be addressed, relationships that weren’t meeting your needs, a lack of vital support. How much of that is still true? From the sounds of it… none at all. And that’s incredible. You should be proud of that.

But besides being proud, I think you should take that understanding – how much you’ve changed, how much you’ve improved, how much you’ve transformed your world – and then take a deep breath and really think: how has this break up actually affected you? Are you actually backsliding? Or is it the case that you’re anticipating it because you’re afraid of going back? Because I think if you actually examine your feelings – how you feel, not how you’re afraid you will feel or might feel – I think you might be surprised. While that break up hurts, and you’re understandably worried about future rejection, I think you’re going to be shocked to realize that this is the anticipation of that.

Which is understandable. The person you used to be was miserable and you don’t want to feel that way again. But the thing to realize is that you’re not that person any more. Your life is different, your support structure is different, you are different. The person you used to be is in the past, along with the circumstances that helped shape him. He’s not coming back, simply because the world that he could exist in is also gone.

This doesn’t mean that there aren’t going to be challenges or struggles going forward, to be sure. But they’re going to be different struggles – ones that are more connected and relevant to who you are now. You’ve laid a lot of groundwork in advance to help make sure that you’ll be ready for them.

You’re afraid of ghosts, not revenants. They’re memories, recordings of the past. They’re who you were, and they shaped who you are now.

You don’t need to be afraid of a return to your past self. The past was merely prologue; it’s time to focus on writing your future.

Good luck.

—

This post was previously published on Doctornerdlove.com and is republished on Medium.