Posted on: Tuesday, May 17, 2005

ABOUT WOMEN
Rejection happens; get over it

By Catherine E. Toth
Advertiser Staff Writer

You didn't get the job. You didn't get the condo. You didn't get your pseudo-sci-fi chick-lit novel published.

Been there, didn't get them, either.

Rejection is a hard pill to swallow. In fact, it's more like a cocktail of spiced rum, chocolate milk and Pepto. Really sickening on the way down.

And something you never want to experience again.

I remember my first bout with rejection — with the kind of clarity only therapy can bring.

His name was Steven (or was it Shane?) and I was in love.

But my kindergarten classmate was more enthralled with my cubby-buddy Elaine — funny how I remembered her name — and left me wallowing in self-pity. What's wrong with me? Is it my hair? My lunchbox?

Right then I swore off men. I was done. They only break female hearts. No more!

Until a few summers later when I met Kevin (or was it Brian?), who was the absolute best sham battle player ever. I was in love. (Though he was quickly replaced by River Phoenix, then Kelly Slater, then John Cusack.)

None of these guys cared that I existed. Not one. Well, unless I was on a fast break to the basket. Other than that, I didn't matter much. And it was crushing.

But I'm not alone in my misery.

My best friend pined for the resident skater-boy at our high school for four years. My co-worker in college chased after her high school classmate for years. My perpetually single girlfriend is completely in love with Brendan Fraser. (OK, so this doesn't exactly fit, but still, knowing you'll most likely be rejected can be pretty hard.)

But that didn't stop any one of them from pursuing the next guy — or the next — despite the piercing pain of rejection.

It's one of those inevitable things. No one goes through life without being turned down, shrugged off, dismissed. By bosses, landlords, cab drivers. It hurts.

But it seems the most deflating to get rejected by an infatuation.

Like when you hand the hot bartender your credit card — oh, and your number! How did that get there? — and he returns it with your receipt. Or when you finally build up the courage to ask your personal trainer to grab a protein shake after your session and he says he's on a carb-only diet. Ouch.

That doesn't just hurt. It stings. Your ego is destroyed. How can you survive another round of rejection?

But you do.

Because you innately know that you can't go through life crippled by that fear.

My mom always said if you don't ask, you don't get. And if you get rejected, well, then nothing's changed. You're exactly where you started, only a little bruised and battered. But what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?

Or smarter.

And next time maybe you'll chase the one who chases back.

Reach Catherine E. Toth at 535-8103 or ctoth@honoluluadvertiser.com.