The King of Rejection
No one gets ghosted like I do. I am the king of being cast aside.
Rejection stings. Research on rejection shows that the pain of being excluded is not so different from the pain of physical injury. It hurts, literally. We’re social creatures and survive on cooperative groups. To be alone and outside on the fringes of society is to starve.
16 years ago, I wrote a blog on Xanga. Publishing my first post was nerve-racking. I was venturing into a world wide web of infinite rejection. Eventually, my Xanga started getting thousands of reads. Friends tossed me eProps to real props. Then I broke. I deleted the blog.
I’ve had two Xangas, a couple Blogspots, some Facebook Notes, and now here. Writing deepened my friendships and has even helped me meet new ones.
Friends help. Like-minded friends would want to hang out and write together at the local cafe. Encouraging friends would connect me with magazine editors and publishers in attempts to establish my career as a writer. The pros rejected me.
Where I reign in rejection is with women. The slideshow of my love life begins with…
My theme song…
Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face. Women have handed me plenty of knuckle-sandwiches. Whatever. The purpose of a man’s life is to take a beating and still stand. Colonel Sanders was rejected 1,009 times before he built KFC.
Yes, rejection sucks. What’s worse is not trying. #burgerRefill