Tag Archives: rejection

SelfLove365, Year 2, Day 287: Reject Accept

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I often reject myself – how I am feeling, what I am wanting, my tummy, my breasts, my eyes, my impatience, the kink in my neck, the rods in my back. I am constantly working to accept these things, and then I wind up rejecting them again. Why is it so difficult? Why is rejection my go-to, my primary way of being?

There is safety in self-rejection – if I reject myself first, I am “protected” from the rejection of others, because I’m already there, and I can’t be knocked down any further. The instinct to stay in this rejected “safe” space is so strong, that accepting my parts, all of me, is so fucking difficult. It sounds easy though. And I am doing it, slowly. I bought a bikini two years ago, and I have been sharing my feelings more openly, particularly the ones I don’t want to feel.

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SelfLove365, Year 2, Day 161: Allowing

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Allowing.

I haven’t been doing much of this today.

I entered two of my paintings to a juried art show and they were both rejected. This is the third year in a row that I have entered and failed to get in. After receiving the email with the news, I quickly moved on, and didn’t stop to check in with myself to see how I actually felt about it; I think I assumed my feelings wouldn’t be much different than previous years, so why bother to check them out? I moved on with my day, projected my lack of emotion on to others, and maintained my denial for a solid ten hours. Yay, me.

Now I am beginning to allow the feeling to settle in, to show itself. I’m starting to notice the rejection, the anger, the sadness, the blow to the ego and self-esteem. I can see how holding onto those feelings, without expressing them, causes them to seep out in other ways, such that I began to feel rejected by others today, for not very good reasons.

It is time to move.
It is time to express.
It is time to allow.

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SelfLove365, Year 2, Day 19: Willingness to Dig Deep

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Scratching the surface, you will find I am not a snob, or stuck-up and quietly condescending, like you may think. I am curious and watching. Listening and absorbing. Waiting and reacting.

Dig a little deeper and you will hear about all the ways the things you say are affecting me. The triggers know no bounds are are frequently dredging up old stuff from the past; things I keep thinking will just fall away, and I know it’s time to accept that they will likely keep testing me; it’s my reactions that can change. it’s the jealousy, abandonment, rejection, wanting to be liked, not feeling good enough, feeling like I’m too much, insecurity and lack of trust and safety, that you’ll find.

Shovel a bit more and you’ll see that I’m just like you. And we are the same. I am you, and you are me. I know your stories and you will know mine, or you knew them years ago. I want to be seen by you and to witness your beauty and love.

Take me all apart and there is the spark of light that longs to go back to where it came from. It watches all this, and waits.

SelfLove365 Year 2, Day 3: Grounded

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It was all she could do to feel her feet on the ground. Never mind that. She completely forgot to feel her feet on the ground. She completely forgot she even had feet. She spent the day in her head. She spent the day in the future. She spent the day worried and scared and in fear of rejection. She spent the day doing things, keeping busy so her fears would leave, even for a second. She cleaned, she cooked, she hugged her children and played Battleship. But those pesky thoughts kept coming back and reminding her that this time tomorrow, she could be old news. Trash thrown out the back door – forgotten. But wait, she reminded herself, this is the old story. She reminded herself that she is who she is, whether or not she’s rejected by another. She’s strong. She’s capable. She’ll manage. She knows how connecting with someone doesn’t mean forgetting others and throwing them away. Except that the voices in her head try to convince her that she’s wrong and that that’s exactly what she did, herself. Those voices are wrong. Those voices are wrong. Those voices are wrong! There was no throwing away. There was a realization, a truth revealed, an understanding, and then a moving on. She finds herself desperately wanting to know what’s happening elsewhere, to be a fly on the wall, or bigger than that. Except that would probably be even harder, truthfully, than not knowing at all. She can’t wait for the day to end, to move on from the thoughts swirling in her head, keeping her from connecting to her power, to the Source, to Earth. She finally presses play, lets the music flood in, the tears flow out, and her feet can finally feel the ground.

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Remembering my Path

SelfLove365: Day 193

I want to remember to remember this, because it seems like I forget a LOT. When I ask myself, “How am I going to deal with this?”, the answer invariably lies in my body. Today I was thinking about rejection, and how I can confront rejection when it comes up for me again. I got really caught up in my head, thinking, thinking, thinking, until I remembered… ah yes! The body. What does rejection feel like in my body, and can I feel it?

During meditation, I noticed the in-breath felt like acceptance and validation, while the out-breath was like rejection. But really, the both felt similar, and equally pleasant. Can I do this in reality? Accept validation and rejection as pleasant? Also, the breath was coming and going, but I wasn’t attached to any one of the breaths that entered or exited my body. Letting go of situations and attachments this easily will come…

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Rejected.

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Two of my paintings (above and below) were not accepted into a juried art show at a local art gallery today. Just like last year. Last year, I told myself it was only because of the canvases (the edges were too thin, I was told). This year, I have all sorts of reasons:

I’m not a real artist (whatever that means).

There are words on the paintings and the jury didn’t like words.

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My work is too “pretty” (I have heard this statement before), too colourful, trying too hard, too much like somebody else’s work, too this, too that.

OK, I get it, I get it: I suck.

Before you go commenting to tell me this all isn’t true, I want to assure you that I know this. I know the voices in my head are lying to me. I know they are trying to keep me safe (in a weird way), that they aren’t working for me, etc. I get this. And the whole time I think these thoughts, I also have a witness inside of me, that is completely non-judgemental, and knows that none of it matters, none of it is true, none of it is real. I know.

I’m still crying my guts out.

Rejection is giving me ample opportunity to feel my emotions, to be in touch with what is going on for me, to see what is real, and what I am feeding with my energy. As much as I would rather be jumping for joy that I got into an art show, I am also grateful for the chance to feel so deeply. This rejection is stacking onto another rejection from over a week ago – a more personal one, but one that gave me a huge jab in my core; I hadn’t realized just how low my self-esteem was until that day. I’m still not over that one, and now this double dose of rejection has been difficult, to say the least.

You know how lots of self-help books and websites say, “You can’t love others until you love yourself”? I’ve been thinking about this, with reference to rejection. Is it true that I am actually rejecting myself, and that maybe I don’t love myself enough? At first I thought so, but then I realized I was just trapping myself in my old perfectionist ways again. What I was really saying was,

“I’m not loving myself enough. I am not good enough at loving myself”.

I have realized that in reality, I am very good at loving myself. I cry when I need to cry. I call my husband when I need to hear a loving voice during my shitty day. I ask for hugs. I take myself out dancing. I blog (sometimes.. haha!). I ask for what I want.

I also listen to music when I need to listen to music. During my rejection experience last week, I noticed I wasn’t really in touch with “sadness”, even though I felt sad-ish, and knew I would be sad later. I knew I needed a cry, it just wasn’t happening yet. Music to the rescue: I instinctively played Sigur Ros in the car, without really knowing why, and BOOM! A flood of tears, all day long. A few days later, that sadness turned into anger, and Nine Inch Nails has been helping me feel that and move through it.

You know what? I like my paintings, I really do. I have fun making them, I even like looking at them afterwards (except after a few months – I start to cringe if they hang around too long). I am grateful for all the people who like to look at my art online, whether on my blog or my Facebook page. I am especially grateful for those who send me supporting comments and feedback, and the people who purchase my paintings. As much as I do paint for myself, I don’t want to work in a vacuum, keeping it all locked away for nobody to see. I want people to see my work and to enjoy it.

But not everybody will, and that’s alright, too.