The Rejection Disclaimer

In the most unexpected of places, with the unlikeliest two people… it started as all the best stories do, when a girl meet a boy…

I was at Wolfkop weekender for an outdoor dancing, lilo floating, camping festival. Embracing my inner ‘wild’, I’d corn rolled by hair white blonde and black and was all sorts of interpretive dance free on the grass floor. River washing, moon howling – liberated festival girl.

I had hoped that I’d meet a kindred wolf spirit and fall madly in love (as I’m always hoping to do). “Love her, but leave her wild” type man – another way seeker, unbound by societies norms and expectations.

Almost everyone there was wound up: MD, acid, shrooms, coke… whatever floats boats. Except me, who was drinking wine for days and realising that the illegal druggies are so much more chill than the legal dronkies. Perhaps it was the different vibration I was on because as much as I’m usually drawn to the biggest druggie in the room, this time, I took a different turn.

I found myself drawn to who I assumed was a free festival goer, but like myself, actually wasn’t.

Embracing my ‘wild and free’ wolf spirit

The only other non drug partaker and me, created our own wine festival and had a celebration of our own. In real life, this person would be an absolute no go for me: a clean cut square, wealthy wasp, from boarding school. And Catholic – I mean, witch please! Just not my vibe hey. Except that in these circumstances, removed from the constructs of the world, he was decidedly my type. Tall, dark, handsome and such fun to be around. A glowing light energy I was immediately drawn to. We swam and danced and drank and talked and even coloured in! All too delightful.

I thew out all kinds of crazy the first night which he caught with grace, even saying “If thats as crazy as it gets, I can handle it” which of course calmed me to sweet and gentle the next day. Cooking and quiet and affectionate. The next night we made out under the stars. White sheets, warm blankets and endless night sky. He was open and vulnerable – talking about his feelings and recent heartbreak – endearing and attractive. 

The romantic in me just loved how life had lead me to that particular neighbouring camp site on that particular weekend, to that particular boy. I was finally attracted to a ‘good guy’. A decent honest human being. I’d matured!

We kept in touch and I loved how he asked advice on dealing with his roller coaster feelings following his breakup. The guy literally took notes when we spoke on the phone (it’s my best when they do that!) I knew (and told him) that when he realised how delightful and lovely he was, he’d feel better about being rejected by someone who clearly couldn’t see his value. Thrilled that someone else could. Me.

I told him I was visiting his city for and he asked to make dinner for me, at his home – the chivalry! The next day was twin flame day (which of course, I am totally into) and I thought: this could be the start of something special. Guess what!?

It wasn’t.

It degraded into one of my worst experiences to date…

He’d read my blogs. And was nervous.

Him: Sjoe, I’ve read some of your stuff and it’s hectic hey. You just say it as it is.

Me: Yes

Him: So you not going to write about me hey?

Me: Are you going to act like you’re interested in me and then tell me not to expect anything afterwards?

(If Yes: yes.)

I live my life for Love or Content.

It’s clear which I’d prefer, but I’ll take the latter if that’s what I’m given.

So when a boy behaves like a one pager – that’s what I reduce him too. The world needs more relevant, relatable stories for women. We need the truth about dating. We don’t need more ‘I’m a good guy’ charades.

In today’s millennial dating mine field, where the casualties are the rejected, we need all the support we can get.

So, if my life is to be all work, women and writing, so be it.

I’ll shine the light of my words in the dark shameful corners of rejection that we blame ourselves for. We needn’t. I’m here to say, it’s ok – me too! Rejection happens – to all of us. Low self esteem or high. Insecure or confident. No matter what you look like, what you own. None of it matters to the person who doesn’t want it anyway. And when you’ve outgrown the role of the victim and embraced your inner heroine, you’re able to start interpreting an alternative narrative about your situation. Welcome to the warrior goddess version.

“You can be the ripest, juiciest peach in the world, and there’s still going to be somebody who hates peaches. – Dita Von Teese”

It’s not about the rejection. Just like every single thing in life, it’s about how you deal with it that counts. Your rejection reaction.

Here’s the turn around: Rejection is Protection.

Literally, it’s the universe steering you in your direction.

(And the rejector protecting themselves from you.)

So, as you’ve guessed, my Prince Charming was not camp boy. The ‘Maybe this time, I’ll be lucky’ soundtrack – was cut short with ‘err maybe not’.  I’ll fast track you to our last scene, which takes place, in the bedroom. I’m stroking his back and ask,

Me: So, what are you doing tomorrow?

Him: ‘I’m not seeing you tomorrow. Remember I said, I’m not ready.”

Me: But do you remember what you just did? Like literally just did. I could jog your memory but I’m still naked in your bed after spending the night, so I’m thinking that you know?

Him: Ja, but like, what I said…

Ah… the Rejection Disclaimer… dropped into the situation when it’s so far past conversation and clothing that: it’s too late.

Actions. Speak. Louder. Than. Words. This is way the universe works. I din’t just make it up.

So when he says, “I’m not ready” after:

We’ve already been together; he’s invited me into his home; cooked me dinner; asked me to stay the night and we’re two bottles of wine deep, sitting on the couch discussing our feelings and he’s asked mine, to which I’ve replied “I like you, I would date you.”

He gets that first and then tells me, then, that actually…

I’m not ready

But still, he wants to:

  • Spend time with me
  • Get my guidance and advice personally and professionally
  • and of course… have sex with me but

just as friends.

Because thats what friends are for?? No. Thats called a boyfriend.

So after the beautiful build up, fresh compliments about how gorgeous I look with my normal hair and the fact that we’ve literally connected – his disclaimer takes preference? Seriously?

Maybe because I feel five contrasting things at once, I’ve learnt to base my decisions on: what I actually do. Action over words, every time. And in this case: I’d shown up, physically and emotionally. It felt like something was happening because, it was.

But the magic words that bypass all bad behaviour: Not ready. The Rejection Disclaimer.

Shame. He’s not ready. Poor baby! He didn’t use you – he just…?

So back into the bedroom, while I put my underwear on, to stop feeling like I was in a hellish version of ‘Forgetting Sarah Marshall’ naked rejection, and camp boy says

“So about my business and the blah blah blah situation, what do you think I should do?”

If you’re wondering if he’s actually trying to get business advice from me, while I’m naked, after his rejection? Yes. Yes he was. It was then that I had my ‘Aha, I am so writing about him’ moment. From potential boyfriend to blog post.

As I was walking out the door, the kicker:

“I’m a nice guy hey? Because I told you I’m not ready.”

Me: No. A nice guy never has to say it. They just are. You are not a ‘nice’ guy.

(Self involved, immature and oblivious – yes. But to know that would take awareness.  I didn’t realise at first either. I thought ‘quintessential nice guy’ – red flag.)

Him: Don’t I even get a kiss goodbye?

Because he didn’t want to feel bad about hurting me? Even though: too late.

At this point, I wasn’t thinking: why doesn’t he like me and am I not good enough to date?

Because I am likeable and exceptional.

It’s likely that he didn’t like himself and he didn’t feel good enough to be dated. By me, by anyone. Because when a person is emotionally unavailable, it just isn’t about you. It is all, about them.

And when an emotionally available person meets one who is unavailable – the universe steps in to save the day, every, single, time. Ah, universe… the chaos in misunderstanding her control is amusing.

Sure, I took a few hours to obsess:

  • Was it because I played the ‘Wicked’ soundtrack and said I am a misunderstood witch?
  • Was it when I said, let’s listen to Taylor swifts ‘Blank Space’ because it reminds me of you…

Strangely no, because he countered with,

Can we listen to a few more of Bieber’s songs, because ‘Believe’ is his best album yet…

So, same, same.

I’m not saying you can’t do something horrendous that totally puts someone off as a deal breaker. But if that’s, being yourself, then they’re simply not a match for you. It’s not a complimentary combination.

I felt sorry for myself. Replayed the bizarre conversations we’d had that proved it was a match made in madness (click here for more). And then, I picked myself back up. Re adjusted my Queen crown and reminded myself, that I’m the prize. 

After a previous 7 month break, I re joined tinder.

To the left, to the left.

By that eve, on Twin Flame day, during my favourite time of 11.11, I was on a date with a man far more physically and intellectually my vibe. And I haven’t looked back since.

“So it’s gonna be forever, or it’s gonna go down in flames?”

As I said to new guy: Soulmate or Story… no pressure.

And Dear reader, I’ll keep you posted.

PS: A few days later, my friend told me she’d matched with camp boy on Tinder and upon realising who he was, ignored his request to ‘meet up’ – for what? 33%?

He’s one of those:

  • Use and abuse to get over the girl who hurt you.
  • Get under to get over.
  • Deal with your rejection by rejecting others.

Cause that’ll do the trick until… Karma camp boy…. Karma.