Dealing with Rejection

I was listening to this song by St. Vincent called New York when the epiphany hit. The lyrics are (sorry in advance for the explicity):

New York isn't New York

Without you, love

So far in a few blocks

To be so low

And if I call you from First Avenue

Where you're the only motherfucker in the city

Who can handle me

The epiphany was this: part of my aftermath of being rejected was to attempt to keep this fantasy going that he’s the only guy who can “handle” me.  I felt like there was an instant exposure of a lie that I think we are all guilty of believing. Think about it.  “But, he’s the only guy who GETS me”, “he’s the ONLY guy I’m compatible with.”

Maybe right now he is.  Maybe he’s actually not and you just don’t see it. Either way the question is: how is that helping you deal with the reality that he’s not interested in you?  This lie is detrimental to the process of moving on. It gets us emotionally stuck in a fantasy that will never play out in reality.

This is a big one for me because I sort of like the drama. I like creating this dramatic fantasy life where I get into these passionate arguments with the men I’m interested in.  I think it’s just part of who I am. But honestly, if I go there, it’s not good for me.

Im only sharing this after 28 years of not handling rejection well. As I’ve grown I’ve learned a lot about healthy and unhealthy ways of moving on. Honestly, it’s not even about doing it RIGHT it’s- how do quickly do you want to move on into a fuller more vibrant life? Its a choice.  There are also deep identity issues that try to attach themselves to relationships. I’ve had to learn to sort those out. I’ve learned to come from a place of self worth.  Here are

just  a few more tips I’ve learned along the way:

• Discern and avoid self pity and unforgiveness.

• In the past I was all “oh it’s a problem I with me. I’m a terrible human.” And then I’d spend so much time trying to win the guy back. As I’m more settled in my identity the temptation is to say “he should like me. I’m freakin attractive!”  Both aren’t good. Recognize that people have choices and that’s a good thing. Forgive them for any way you thought that they led you on.

• If you’re a believer, Feast on the spirit of God:

• Pray in tongues and read the Bible everyday your mind will be renewed and your likely to catch this lies and choice truth quicker
• Ask God questions and sit and wait for the answer
• For instance, last night I was really lonely and I just said “help” because in situations like this in the past I’d make a poor choice. Do you know what he did? He simply said, “do you know how much I love you?”  

• Listen to songs that fill you with hope

• Don’t listen to songs like the St. Vincent one. Pay attention to lyrics about regret and the past and focus on the present and the future.

• Open up

• Be willing to share your struggles and ask for guidance from trustworthy pastors/mentors in your life

The Full Creative Life

Recently I read a Time Out New York interview with Jason Mraz. 

He said something that really resonated with exactly what I have been feeling in this season:

“I loved singing: that was my joy.  Musical theater was an option, but when I got to New York I started playing guitar, and that became another option.  And I thought, Wow, I can play guitar and sing on the street corner, on the subway, anywhere!  I don’t need to be a waiter and go to auditions the rest of my life.” (Nov 8^th issue, p 43).

I say that to say this:

I feel like we subject ourselves to victim mentalities as artists.  Why won’t someone just discover me?  Why won’t someone cast me?  Why don’t I have an agent?  No one seems to notice me.  No one seems to see me.

I used to watch Funny Girl and dream of one day getting to be Barbara Streisand.  I knew I had all of these emotions and if I could just get a set, hair, make up, and music—I would be able to FEEL so many things and people would love it.  They’d love me the way they love Barbara.

I’m learning a few things though about vulnerability and unmet needs.  Being vulnerable does not mean sharing all of your dreams and desires to the entire world.  I’m still learning what to share and what not to share and how to fit it all in with my values.  I’ve hid my whole life behind the value of wanting realness, raw emotion. Yet maybe that was actually to mask my true vulnerability after all.

I discovered recently that I love singing and playing my guitar.  Even if I’m still pretty terrible at playing guitar, writing new melodies is an outlet for my singing that I had never known before.  That way, when I walk into an audition and present myself I’m not doing it out of neediness—a desire to put my art out there.  I’ve already been meeting that need.  I’m already filling my artistic coffers.

We do not need casting directors, agents, managers, or audiences to tell us we who we are.   If we did, we would be shadows of human beings.  We just need to look in the mirror and trust the people who are closest to us.

Unlike Jason, I do not plan on giving up on my dream to both act and sing in order to pursue a career in music.  I've learned though not to limit myself but to continue to expand and grow in areas beyond my comfort zone.  I still believe that it’s all toward the same purpose: being the full, true, creative person I was meant to be.