A Brief Glimpse of Raw Pain

Rejection is such a hard and painful thing to have to face, accept, and come to terms with. It's probably something that most people never really get the hang of because it hurts, and it feels personal. For me, it circles back around to that dreaded phrase that shaped what was the mantra for the vast majority of my life: "I am not good enough."

I am, in this current moment, reeling from rejection. I am in turmoil, I am in tears, I am in pain, because a community that I believed I was a part of, have supported and loved, have poured my energy and passion and enthusiasm into, showed me in no uncertain terms that I am not valued or really wanted by them.

It's their prerogative. I can't force people to like and accept me. And really, I would rather know and have the opportunity to walk away with my chin up, under my own steam, than to remain ignorant, foolishly chasing a clique of people around who have no desire for my company like some pathetic puppy desperate for affection.

But it still hurts. A lot. And not the fun kind of hurt.

Right now, it is giving me reason to doubt all of my relationships and communities. Obviously, this is an emotional response rather than a rational one, and so at some point, once I've cried and gotten the pain and poison out, I will be able to reconcile the two into that comforting grey center of the Venn diagram called the Wise Mind. I will be able to recognize that other relationships and other communities do show that they value me and that they do want me around. I will remember that life is not all or nothing, and that just because one group of people have hurt me doesn't mean others will.

But right now, in the searing blaze of pain, my fear is in the driver's seat trying to push all the big, red, panic buttons. And those old, awful, abusive, self-defeating, self-hating voices have come oozing out of the cracks where they've been chased into, mostly obliterated by months and months of hard work in therapy, just living with healthier behaviors, and learning to value myself, except for those final vestiges that have hidden in the crevasses like roaches, where I can't get to them... they will probably always be there. Right now, they are hissing their hateful monologue at my grief. I want to quit. I want to curl up in a ball and give up on people, because obviously, I have failed. I am not good enough. I am not worthwhile. I am a failure. I am not pretty enough or skinny enough. I am too noisy. I am too opinionated. I am too fat. I am too ugly. I am too much. Whatever. That is the disgusting, defeated, hateful mantra that is trying to beat a path across the expanse of my existence. Because why even try? Why bother? I will never be good enough.

Except...

Except, that's not the mantra I chant anymore.

Just typing those words is hard for me, because I don't like giving them credence. I don't like those little voices and their nasty little lies. I don't want to acknowledge them, because I don't want to give them even an ounce of power over me ever again.

Because the song I now sing is about my value. The lyrics are about my virtues and my strengths. The melody is about the beauty and passion and empathy I offer the world. I am valuable. I have an incredible amount of value to offer this world. And the world will receive it. It is not a perfect song, but it is mine, and it is good enough.

Calmer now, I remember that not everyone will like me. Not everyone will value me. Not everyone will recognize what I have to offer. Some people will judge me for things I consider neutral or trivial. And that is their choice. And that is their loss. There is no such thing as universal popularity. Not for anyone, no matter what.

If these particular people do not see my value, if they do not experience joy in my presence, it says nothing about me and everything about them. That they choose to be exclusive, not just to me but to anyone, means they are limiting themselves from a richer, fuller experience. And that is their loss, and it is a tragic one.

It's not mine.

I go where I am wanted. I go where I am valued. I go where my presence brings joy, I go where my presence brings comfort. My time is valuable and ought to be spent in the company of those who value it. So now, I will go and shelter with those who see me and are glad for my company, whom I also see and am also glad for theirs.

My tears are gone. My grief will run its course, but my anger and fear have calmed to acceptance, and that was the entire point of the exercise.