I am currently studying rejection from a Biblical/disciple aspect- the kind of study designed to help one understand, define, and overcome. And yet, still, the resonating sting of rejection is apparent daily.
We all want, at our core, to be known and accepted. We want to be vulnerable, transparent, honest- and loved anyway. The worth and value we come to place upon ourselves, and ultimately others, begins at conception- which is also when the battle with rejection begins.
I have lived a lot of life at my age- which I am proud of, for the most part. But reflected in this truth is the acknowledgement of the life I lived trying to be liked and accepted. And that isn't pretty. In dealing with rejection, many behaviors become alarmingly obvious in their glaring attempt to become more liked, loved, fit in...accepted.
For me, those behaviors were sometimes self harming, too. Unhealthy relationships with men I could fix, false friends, needy relatives. Seeking to numb through a drink, working out, keeping busy, even volunteering. Lying, manipulating others, imitating behaviors. Moving- over and over and over. Exhausting, all of it.
Here's what it's supposed to look like, right?
The issue with that is- we are human. Rejection hurts- hell, sometimes we are the objects of intentional harm at the claws and scratches rejection is all about.
The greatest rejection I have endured in this life has been at the helm of those claiming to care the most:
- the parent who, as a medical provider, blamed me for the rape I endured
- the "best friend" who used me up, many times, until he "fell in love", stopped contacting me and-not only did I not get invited to the wedding, I never even met the bride
- the other "best friend" who I cared for unconditionally- even though I did not agree with her Swinger lifestyle- who, in jealousy, falsely accused me of inappropriate behavior and cut me off
- the well respected friend who wasn't right for the position I was offering, and after telling him so, cut off all communication, betrayed my trust and confidence
- the family members who have repeatedly lied to me, taken money and other items, cheered for my failings- yes, delighted in them even, betrayed myself and my children for years on end, and still expect me to "be there" when the need is greatest
- the over decade long abuse, rape, and molestation that was known- and not once stopped.
Just a few of life's greatest ouch moments. Why mention them? A few reasons: the greatest common factor in each of these instances- all of these folks claim to be Christian. All of these instances involve people I trusted with my most treasured life moments, thoughts, successes and failures. And they all reflect the deepest scars I wield.
Undoing rejection takes so much time and devotion to face it over and over until it's conquered, laid to rest, and the strength intended is gleaned. So simple to type, an Everest effort and obstacle to execute. Yet, it can be done- and should be. On the other side, as with all great adventures, lies the truth and substance we are, in fact, designed for.
Purpose.
Purpose.
I recently read Open by Andre Agassi and it is filled with his brilliant story of decisions made while under the oppression of fear and rejection. Incredibly powerful, this book. A few quotes knocked my heart and soul into gaping truth and openness:
"...God isn't anything like your father...God is the opposite of your father. God isn't mad at you all the time. God isn't yelling in your ear, harping on your imperfections. That voice you hear all the time, that angry voice? That's not God."
“Andre, I won't ever try to change you, because I've never tried to change anybody. If I could change somebody, I'd change myself. But I know I can give you structure and a blueprint to achieve what you want. There's a difference between a plow horse and a racehorse. You don;t treat them the same. You hear all this talk about treating people equally, and I'm not sure equal means the same. As far as I'm concerned, you're a racehorse, and I'll always treat you accordingly. I'll be firm, but fair. I'll lead, never push. I'm not one of those people who expresses or articulates feelings very well, but from now on, just know this: It's on, man. It is on. You know what I'm saying? We're in a fight, and you can count on me until the last man is standing. Somewhere up there is a star with your name on it. I might not be able to help you find it, but I've got pretty strong shoulders, and you can stand on my shoulders while you're looking for that star. You hear? For as long as you want. Stand on my shoulders and reach, man. Reach.”
“Hate brings me to my knees, love gets me on my feet.”
And this quote, of greatest impact:
“Remember this. Hold on to this. This is the only perfection there is, the perfection of helping others. This is the only thing we can do that has any lasting meaning. This is why we're here. To make each other feel safe.”
In those few quotes I rediscovered the truth I have always carried, buried inside: God is not man; those who truly care won't change us, but build us up and carry us; love wins; perfection is in doing for others. In that perfection is the defeat, eternally, of all fear and rejection.
In my hurt, fear, and rejection, I have found and honed my purpose and calling. I have been blessed with a man, initially atheist, who loves me with unrelenting fervor, undoing the "Christian" lies. The truest best friend, Gail Stanforth, has never betrayed me, lied, or hurt me. She's propped me and held my hand when I didn't know that I could hold anything anymore. My family, while not biological, is real, strong, honest, and full of value and worth. My adventure are new, my perspective alive, future bright.
It is for you, too.
