To the guy who told me I travel too much. To the woman who cringed when I told you I wanted to start a band and you told me that I shouldn’t sing, that I should just stick to drums. To the girl at the party who called me a douche bag when I accidentally sounded sarcastic as I said “Hey that’s so awesome, tell me more about yourself!”
To everyone who told me I have no control with my drum playing, that I play too loud, that I make weird faces. To the girl on tinder who said I was a nerd when I talked about how I could crush you at megaman.
To the girl who told me I was a shitty boyfriend and dumped me instead of asking what you could do to be there for me through my depression. To the girl who dumped me cause I talked about my thoughts and insecurities too much.
To the guy who called me a complete loser to your girlfriend behind me as I awkwardly danced like a penguin to my favorite song. To the woman who told me I talk too much, talk too loud and high five too hard. To the guy who asked if I was on acid because I was excited and passionate.
To the woman I liked a lot and chatted with now and then for a month before I mustered the courage to finally ask you if you would like to go salsa dancing with me and then you called me strange.
And to everyone else who has rejected me in whatever way I opened up to you. It’s alright. I understand. I’ve rejected people too. Unfortunately, we all have. Most times, probably without even knowing it.
I would like you to know that I try as hard as I can every single day. I faced down demons of chronic depression and social anxiety and fear of looking like a total dweeb for the chance to have a moment of complete vulnerability. And I’m stronger for winning that battle.
For you, it was perhaps a fleeting moment that really didn’t matter but for me it was climbing through mountains of resistance to be able to finally make myself open for you in the hopes that you would accept me. But you didn’t. And that’s okay.
It’s lately that I’ve started to see that I will always be rejected by someone. It’s like that Seinfeld episode where George gets all flustered because not everyone likes him. I mean, how could anyone not like George? Especially if it’s the Summer of George 🙂
Someone will always call me a nerd, awkward, strange, ugly, stupid, or whatever. There are millions of names I can be called. And usually I believe all those names. But I’m starting to realize that they’re not true. I’ve come to find the only word that really matters to me is honesty.
Strangely, rejection has become a normal part of my life. Each moment, I have to make the choice of whether or not to give in and tell myself that I am stupid and ugly and weird and awkward. Having a talkative depression, I usually just get exhausted and beat myself up with words. But every now and then, I tell myself that I’m awesome and beautiful despite what I usually hear.
I carry around a backpack of old rejections but nonetheless I keep trying to make myself vulnerable and open to everyone I meet. I alone have to live with myself and, at the end of the day, I want to be able say that I was true to myself. That I didn’t hold myself back. That I was honest and strong in the face of rejection.
I have this fear that the rejection I face will harden me. That I will become someone who says awful things to people who struggle so hard like I do to open themselves up. I never want to become that. Ever.
I’ve gotten used to rejection in all of its hurtful faces but power on through to see the good in myself and others. I do my best to tell those people who are honest and vulnerable that they are beautiful in their expression, no matter what anyone says. I think we all should. I would like to hear a lot more people genuinely support each other. We can be so quick to react with rejection because we ourselves have been rejected. It’s about time we tell each other the truth: there is nothing to prove because we are all beautiful.