I’ve written so much about vulnerability over the years, I was almost surprised to see how far I could dig into what authentic vulnerability truly looks and feels like in these past several months of trauma— and dive deep, I did! (And still am, coming up with air-filled lungs where the inhale produces sobs and the exhale sighs in disbelief.)
It goes to show no matter how transparent we are, no matter how much we love, how much we give, we are still only as vulnerable as we allow others to see. My challenge is to be authentic inside my vulnerability, and I challenge you to do the same. Watch how much we give others from this safe space and how much we get in return.
Vulnerability is a gift we give, not a weakness we feel.
At the end of a relationship, it’s not just the rejection that hurts. It’s not just that one of the two of you doesn’t believe your relationship is worth the work necessary to stay alive and bright together… though that all hurts quite a bit.
Rejection is painful.
And it doesn’t matter in what capacity we face rejection; it simply hurts. We all feel rejected at one point or another. Maybe we didn’t make the baseball team…. didn’t get that part in the fifth-grade play… friends decided they didn’t want to hang out with us… passed up for a promotion at work … rejection certainly makes us feel not good enough.
Diving deeper into rejection can send us into a downward spiral of resentment, green with envy for those chosen over us. Anger rises to the surface. Sadness takes over. A myriad of emotions overtake the process of figuring it out in the beginning stages of healing and can halt any progress. Be aware, and maybe even weary, of when those emotions surface and the control they take. Each new emotion competes with the story behind the happenings, and the process to justify feelings with walls of protection builds a fort around jack-in-the-box surprises popping up with every question.
Embracing this range of emotions and separating the feelings behind the emotions from the happening is the only way to deal with rejection.
Frankly, rejection is another personal hill we must climb. It does not define us — not who we are, not our core values, not how we should feel about ourselves. It only defines what someone else thinks of us.
Read that again.
Rejection only defines what someone else thinks of us.
Someone else may not have rejected us.
It’s time to let go of what others think… that doesn’t mean stop working for positive change. It just means rejection is not about us… it’s about not being a good fit. Now… that doesn’t make it less sad. But it does give each of us the permission to let go and focus on building ourselves outside of the ways others assume we are.
We do not always get feedback to try again and make it next time. It’s something we have to work through… do the work necessary to accept the happening and change the things we want to change, should we want something different from ourselves. Ultimately, when rejected, we have to make decisions, a process that needs to occur outside of the emotion of rejection.
Worse than the rejection we all face from time to time is deception. It’s the fear of deception that keeps our walls up and our visible vulnerabilities low, at least with those we love and trust most. Ironic, isn’t it? We keep these darkest things away from those we love most.
Deception in a relationship often goes hand in hand with rejection. In the other scenarios, not so much, though lack of coaching, failure to communicate, deficiencies in training, etc., could all lead to the feeling of being duped outside of a relationship.
But more than any other place, an intimate, loving relationship can see deception and rejection hand in hand at the same time. They can feel the same at first, but there are inherent differences.
Rejection is something we can own ourselves. We can choose to do the work: I wasn’t good enough for this person or situation. I need to work on these things to become a better version of myself. I lost.
Or we can choose to accept we were not a good fit: I can move on to the next thing. Maybe I’ll be a better fit next time. Or even better: Maybe I’ll find a better fit for me next time.
Most of us choose a mix of the two, and it’s always a good idea to take the opportunity rejection offers for personal growth.
Deception, on the other hand, is communicating without love, respect, or even words that we are not good enough. It’s rejection without respect.
See the difference?
Ironic, isn’t it?
Deception is ambiguous. It’s purposeful. It’s communication presented in vague statements. It’s telling half-truths, withholding information. Stonewalling. It’s also the blatantly obvious action, but more than the obvious, unseen deception like gaslighting can do damage for a long time before it comes to light. Gaslighting can resemble many things, including stories changing, blame and shame, and accusations without founding.
Now which one makes us more vulnerable?
Does it matter?
…maybe in healing; maybe in separating the emotions from the happening; maybe in seeking understanding. It’s different for everyone and possibly every situation.
When we are not worthy enough to continue to work on a relationship in a safe space together, we are rejected. It’s horribly sad. But rejection is ours to overcome and ours alone.
I’ve said several times in the past few months I cannot begin to separate the emotion from the happening. Almost six months later, I can see the thread unwinding from the tight hold emotions held over the happening. However, it’s still difficult to view love and loss, partnership and best friends with sudden loss and rejection… and deception from inside the guise of safety, security, and promise. Blinding and sudden, without reason, without remorse, left alone to pick up the pieces and pack up the peppers and pickles… that’s where I’ve lived for six months now. My gift was a seven-minute conversation. The happening. The aftermath? …pickles and peppers.
Talk about rejection. Ouch. Yeah… that still hurts.
My vulnerabilities are transparent. My apologies to any future partner I may have… I am still in this space of immense loss, and this is my truest vulnerability.
But wait… there’s more…
Rejection is far easier to emotionally process than deception… Deception quickly turns to mockery. Isn’t it ironic when the pieces begin to fall together? When we gift our vulnerabilities to someone outside of those we trust and love most, we create an unhealthy distance between ourselves and those we love.
Going back to the other situations from earlier… the baseball player, the promotion at work, the friends going out… insert the willingness to express vulnerabilities here, and suddenly, opportunities open.
A coach (doesn’t need to feel it necessary to be vulnerable with a player, but in coaching, it could be a good thing, right?) could tell the player how great they are but what the team really lacks is a position or a skill from a place on the field the player doesn’t have. Showing that vulnerability (our team lacks) presents rejection to the player as not being a good fit rather than the deception of simply not making the team without further communication. The same could apply to the other situations. No, we don’t owe it to those trying out for our team an explanation as to why we didn’t choose them… but add some layers to this relationship between coach and player and see where it could go.
What if they’d worked together since the player was a young kid, and now they are trying out for the varsity team in their freshman or sophomore year. Now we’re looking at a relationship spanning years. Does it deserve more vulnerability than the kid who showed up for try-outs without knowing anyone on the coaching staff or team? The lack of communication is a mockery of the years of friendship built before… deception turns to mockery.
Mockery. Deception. Rejection.
Oh… there is so much deception veiled as rejection… vulnerabilities shattered before us as another fills a void we don’t see because voids are black holes of vulnerability.
Deception runs deep… only some deception is visible. A relationship, unhappy and impatient, without the willingness to give vulnerability, ceases communications, which spirals into confusion, mixed messages, stonewalling, risk, and, in the end, deception.
The silence of deception is loud. And it speaks volumes.
You see, it’s not the rejection that cuts so deeply.
It’s the deception.
Rejection, we can begin to own as our responsibility.
Deception is veiled as ours but is not at all ours to own, making it impossible to cope through.
It’s simply something we must let go without reason.
Now… separating the emotion from the happening is one thing. Separating the rejection from the deception… this is what falls beneath the layers.
It’s this separation that is the start of splitting the emotion from the happening.
And it’s fucking hard to do. This is the hard work we must do to recover.
My emotions for the rejection of me and what I built do not belong to anyone who rejected me. Not my lover who was my ride or die, my best friend… not the friend who fills shoes I once wore… not those who have killed me slowly.
Those emotions… are solely mine.
When we are rejected, we often feel we could make a change. From the earlier analogies… we could practice and become a better player, work harder, learn more, even in relationships, we can be the change our partner needs… behavioral changes, not core changes, of course.
But deception is a different beast altogether, and it’s often not as visible as an outright lie or an affair. It’s often hidden in the darkest corners of the spaces we feel the safest.
Rejection hidden deep inside deception is different.
When we are deceived, it’s not always where it appears to have started.
No… deception often starts with vulnerability — gone
More importantly, vulnerability once gifted, then quickly (or even slowly and even more unnoticeable), taken away.
Vulnerability is the purest form of love…
…but… wait… watch how we use it even with people we don’t know well… when we stop trusting love with our vulnerabilities and start to trust others instead, it is deception.
What’s interesting is we don’t often fear vulnerability when we first begin to trust someone, a new relationship, a new co-worker… we tell all. We trust, we feel, we honeymoon. Then it stops…
What makes a couple stop talking? Stop communicating? Stop trusting? What makes someone not want to tell the person they’ve loved and trusted for so long exactly how they feel, and when it comes to deception, what makes a new connection so easy to fill that void?
There are no true answers to those questions because each situation differs. But of this, I am certain…
Deception occurs before rejection.
Deception occurs with a lack of trust to be vulnerable.
Rejection comes after, as a byproduct.
Vulnerability is pure love, and when we stop giving it to those who love us and start with a new connection, the spark of something new (new love, lust, or merely newness) feels like the love we stopped working on… vulnerability at this point also becomes self-love as we nurture all the things we stopped trusting our partner to foster with us.
I’ve been through a lot over these past few months. I’ve literally lost my dogs, a friend to suicide, and stood by as my tribe was rocked to its core with her loss; I’ve lost my daughter; I’ve lost a friend who chose my partner as her own, and I’ve lost my partner. It took me months to admit in all of that, I lost my best friend too. I’ve lost safety and security. I’ve lost a parenting partner, and my children have lost their bonus mom, the woman I used to say was sometimes a better mother to my children than I could be. The loss here is immense.
My pain is raw. And I know I am not alone. In my journey of transparency, I will share more of my commitment to live inside my personal vulnerable space, loving myself, speaking my truth, healing, and uplifting others when I can.
These are lessons in healing.
Separating the emotions from the happening.
The raw from the unclear.
👇 This is how it feels when the clarity of the deception leads to the rejection, and the emotions begin to unravel from the happening. It’s a process.
Here’s what I do know and where I have to toss blind faith into the wind and hope it comes back to me:
~ We can do hard things well.
~ We can live inside the vulnerable and make it our strength.
~ We can offer gratitude every day and still work on ourselves.
~ Opposites can be true in the same space at the same time.
No matter the space, the emotion, the feelings, the fear, the anxiety…
Start…
Living Inside The Vulnerable
Be Well
~Stella