Rejection Can be a Powerful Tool

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At 16, I was at the beach with my cousins; body surfing, throwing a frisbee and football and having a blast. While getting ice cream with my older cousin, Bobby, I had a brief and awkward interaction with a beautiful girl. I was so enamored with her, and we all laughed at my clumsy teenager attempt to talk to her.

After we walked away, Bobby asked me why I didn’t ask her for her number. I remember even thinking about asking for it made me terrified. I told him I was nervous, what if she said “No?” He laughed, put his arm around me, and gave me some of the best wisdom, that I apply in many areas of my life. “Nine times out of ten, you’re going to get shot down. But it’s not about you.” Later in life, I came to find one of my favorite quotes, “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take”—Wayne Greztsky.

It’s taken many years to accept this. But a couple years ago I read an article on The Good Men Project about practicing rejection. For thirty days I committed to myself to ask for something I wanted—anything—not just the cute barista’s number, whom I’d have been chatting with for months. It was weird at first, but I found, provided it was a reasonable request, most people were more than happy to accommodate to my creative desires.

When I was “rejected” I learned that it wasn’t so scary, and most of the time it had nothing to do with me (whether the reason was true or not, it doesn’t matter.) I could just say, “Okay, we’ll have a good day!” When the cute barista let me know she had broken up with her boyfriend, and I was single, I gave her my number and told her I’d like to take her out sometime. Eventually, we dated for a while but came to find that we wanted different things, and that was okay. The next girlfriend, seemingly out of the blue, broke up with me, and I didn’t even need to ask why. The fact that she felt the need to end things was enough for me. I don’t want to be with someone that doesn’t want to be with me.

So what happens when you do get that person’s number? After that first amazing six-hour Skype conversation, after the first hug hello feeling the sparks fly, or your first kiss, and you know this is going to be spectacular. What happens after you move in together, and start building, dreaming, and planning a future? When you change your mind about children, and could actually see, and want, to raise a little human with this other person? What happens when one drunken night she says something that cuts deep? What about being rejected while in a relationship?

I’ll tell you what I did, and it was wrong. I stuffed it down. Fed it to my insecure 16-year-old self. I refused to look at the validity of the comment, knowing my own worth and truth. I didn’t ask questions to seek a resolution. And I let that wound fester.

That led me down a dark agonizing path, turning to unhealthy coping mechanisms. I felt shameful and unworthy. I lied about my drinking and broke her trust. I broke her heart. I stole her loving boyfriend away, abandoned her for an affair with the bottle, trying to drown the painful feelings.

As I sit here now, I don’t know if I’ll talk to the woman I love and was preparing to propose to, ever again.

But here is what I’m doing now:

First, I’ve put the plug in the jug. For me. I want “me” back. And I can’t get “me” back if I don’t walk through my pain. I can’t look at the pain if I can’t feel the pain. So, anesthetizing had to go.

Then, I’ve asked for help. I can’t get past the pain unless I walk through it. I’m fairly certain most people aren’t able to objectively look at their own pain and deconstruct it down, back to its origin. Well, I’m not, so I’ve sought help.

All the while, I’m surrounding myself with people who know, love, and support me. They remind me who I am, who I know I am, but have just lost touch. I’m letting them speak truth into my life about me, and laughing at the B.S. lies I tell myself. They love me, and I’m letting them love me, which gives me permission to love myself (more on that next.) These wonderful people help fulfill my need for love, and belonging, and having fun.

And now, I’m starting to “date” myself again. I’m allowing time alone with myself. Investing in me, and appreciating and loving the wonderful man I know I am.

Which helps reinforce in me, the “me” that attracts incredible people into my life. The spectacular man that deserves a woman that helps him feel the sparkles in every everyday moment. That man, who had that woman, that when he thinks about her, or when he kissed her or looked at her he knew it was real and going the distance.

She may have said she “has to let me go,” but I have hope. Because the man she rejected isn’t the man she fell in love with, and it isn’t the man that I’m working on becoming again, only stronger and wiser, having had this experience.

Rejection isn’t easy to face, particularly from someone you admire, adore, and love to the moon and back. It is, though, a very useful experience if you can be honest with yourself and those you trust, open minded to what can and needs to change, and willing to put in the work.

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Photo: Getty Images