i think most of us can remember what it feels like to be the kid that didn’t get picked first. or second. or ever. i remember the angst of teams being divided in two and leaders being assigned and the sheer terror of wishing and hoping and waiting to hear your name get called. i was well aware of who would get picked before me. they were faster and sportier and well, just overall better than me. it was something that i accepted.
i guess the same is true when it comes to love. i’ve always said that i’d rather be the dumpee than the dumper. i’m way more comfortable being rejected, than i am hurting someone’s heart. i’ve pretty much got it down to a fine science now… shock, grief, mourning, release, recovery… ta da!
*brushes off hands*
until it’s not.
maybe it’s because i’m older and not dating every joe that looks in my direction. maybe it’s because my heart is wide and open and the pain takes a little longer to work its way back out. or maybe it’s simply because this last one was love. like, the real kind.
whatever the reason, not being chosen this time took a way greater toll than i ever could have prepared myself for. rejection is a bitch and it’s unbelievably hard not to take it personally. ‘cuz let’s face it, it seems like it’s not him. it’s me.
i spiralled right into some self-loathing, added a bit of pitiful woe-is-me and i rounded it all out by reverting to my childhood with a (un)healthy dose of, everyone is better than me.
then one day (after some therapy and a few jugs of whiskey), i had a revelation. it wasn’t me. it was totally him. he couldn’t show up for me. not in the way i need someone to.
whether you believe in alignment or timing or the universe’s grand plan… it doesn’t matter, because here is where it all applies. when someone can’t give you what you need or want, walking away is the most right thing to do. chasing someone to love you is simply not an option.
so in fact, my guy did me a favour. it didn’t feel like that at the time and i still wonder and wish and sometimes hope. but that’s ok. because the devastation of not being picked is actually a blessing.
we all deserve love that is unequivocal. love that feels easy. love that travels freely in both directions. and let’s face it, i’m not in the business of half-assed. he has left me open for someone who can offer the whole freaking ass.
that’s my kind of rejection.
maybe i should thank the ‘schoolyard picks’ system. being last is actually tops.