Friday 21 November, 2008No, you only think you were rejected

Virtual libraries have been written about rejection—how to survive it, how to rise above it. You've seen the titles: 3 techniques, 9 phases, 18 steps to . . . deal with it. The truth is, you will survive it (unless you decide not to), and you can learn from it, if you're straight with yourself.

One other thing they tell you is not to take it personally. Yeah, right. They seldom tell you how that works.

The truth is, it really isn't personal. (Well, unless you're truly obnoxious or rude. Then it's personal.) Usually, it isn't even about you. That's the hardest part to accept, of course, because we all want to think it's all about us. But face it: you can't be all things to all people. Not unless you're one of those empathic metamorphs from the planet Krios.

Let's break it down. You're most vulnerable to rejection at three points along the road to love.

First approach;

Second date;

Third stage.

Here's how they work.

First,

Think about it. This person knows absolutely nothing about you (unless, as stated earlier, you've been obnoxious or rude), so she (or he) can't possibly judge you on any but the most superficial level. That's pretty impersonal.

Likewise, you know absolutely nothing about the object of your desire. He (or she) may already have an eye on someone else in the room. Might already have a Significant Other. Might prefer the other sex. For that matter, you might be the spitting image of somebody who done 'em wrong, or maybe you sound a lot like their awful Uncle Icky. Nothing at all to do with you as a person. See how it works?

But let's assume you got that first date (or maybe even a second or third). Now the big question is, will you get the next one?

This is the second checkpoint.

Say you see a pair you've just got to have. They're exactly what you've been looking for, perfect in every way, super cool and way hot. Trouble is, they simply don't fit your feet. Doesn't matter what size they are; they don't fit your arch, they pinch your toes, the heel slips. You still love 'em, but you don't fancy pain all that much. So you don't buy.

Now, how personal was that?

But the third stage

Still, it isn't entirely personal even yet. For instance, do you know whether the object of your affection has been completely up front with you? Does he (or she) date other people? Or promise not to, for that matter? This has nothing to do with how attractive you are, how intense your relationship has been, or how lovable you are.

Some people are simply addicted to the rush they get from each new encounter. They don't hang around for long. Some (too many) will make an impulsive commitment to you; but that doesn't mean they can keep it. And when they can't, they tend to come up with all kinds of reasons to blame you, so they needn't feel guilty. But see, it's not really about you. It's about them.

If you've really got it bad,

Are you serious? You were all of those things enough to get as deep into the relationship as you did. So that's not the problem. The problem is thinking you can change somebody else to fit you.

And this is where it does get personal. Because—you know this—although the only person you can change is yourself, you can't force yourself into shoes that don't fit.

So get over it. Call a friend and go shopping. You know the perfect fit is out there somewhere.

you may dump on yourself for not being good enough, or sexy enough, or pretty enough, or whatever enough, to change them. is where the distinctions blur. You've been tooling along, heading toward a real relationship, picking up speed, when suddenly you come smack up against a roadblock. That's gotta hurt. You may feel as though rejection at this point must surely be personal, but it isn't, really. In fact, the two of you have been trying each other on in much the same way as you might shop for shoes. let's say you catch sight of a terrific-looking someone across a crowded room. You make eye contact. You make your approach. You make your play. Zap! You're shot down. How is this not personal?

This is where you may think you've got a relationship. Several dates, a month or two maybe, constitute a short-term relationship. More than that—anything that involves a mutual commitment (note: that's mutual)—is long term, and another matter entirely. So you made it through the first date, and it seemed pretty good to you. Do you get seconds? Nightclub pick-up line, supermarket checkout chat, dog-walk leash tangle, everyday elevator encounter—this is when you ask for the first date, first dance, or phone number.