I wrote something for Thought Catalog yesterday about how men should be more forthright in rejecting you and then today one was. He told he he wasn’t interested in pursuing things any further (we had just met). Which is fine. I feel like that is my karma for writing something chastising people for not being forthright. It never is a fun time to be rejected in any scenario but it’s pretty far away from being a big deal. I got a nice meal out of it and I only wasted an hour of my time.
Plus, it’s kind of cool to be like wow four years ago that would have made me cry if someone said they weren’t interested in me to my face and now I just shrugged and laughed and was like that is totally fine. He used to be in the NHL. That seems very far out of my league.
I mean, someone commented on the post mentioned above about how I am fat and undateable. Someone said that anonymously to me like three years ago and I legit had a mental breakdown. I just don’t care anymore.
1. I would be unemployed if I only wrote things people agree with (because that shit is basic AF)
2. I cannot take seriously the opinion of someone who trolls people on the internet. I mean this in a non-hyperbolized way that is not meant to just be an insult, but that is very sad because I know the mental place I would be in if I was leaving a nasty comment for someone and I try to avoid going to that place because it’s not a happy, healthy place to be. Thomas Merton says that when you love yourself you can’t help but love others, when you hate yourself, you cannot help but be hateful towards others. I wanna exist in the former sphere, please!
3. People’s opinions of me are external to me and a reflection of whatever is going on with them. It very literally has nothing to do with me. This took a year of reading Deepak Chopra’s daily newsletter but this is pretty deeply internalized at this point. Thank god.
I feel very whatever. Rejection isn’t the most fun activity I’ve ever done but I still have feel like in general I live in the Barbie’s dream house version of lives. I have nothing to complain about, Ken-less existence or not.