and the Progress in Self-Esteem

Rejection is my least favorite thing. Mostly because I'm really bad at dealing with it.


I was never rejected growing up. My family loved me (maybe a little too much), the kids at church loved me, the adults at church loved me, people at my school loved me. In elementary school, when I confessed my love to a boy, he became my boyfriend for a few weeks--all except for Jared Woodward, and I remember how thrown I was when I faced his rejection. I actually thought he was lying and playing hard-to-get because I couldn't even fathom such a thing. In the second grade, I had two boys literally fighting over me at recess. But now, in the fourth grade, Jared Woodward didn't love me back and I couldn't understand why. When I finally realized that he wanted nothing to do with me, I spent all my time obsessing over whether I had gotten ugly, whether I was too loud, whether I was actually smart, whether I was funny enough.


In the seventh grade, I met Mason Bouffard, who I literally talked to every single night on the phone for hours. The only reason we ever hung up was if one of our moms told us it was bedtime. But then one day at school, some of my friends told me in the locker room that he had been talking about me behind my back. I confronted him about it, and that discussion resulted in him and his friends making fun of me for the rest of the year about how I was in love with him. To this day, I don't know how that happened. I don't know how this relationship, which was so beautiful over the phone, was so sour in real life. Was I not popular enough? Did he think his friends would make fun of him if they knew? Did I dress funny? Did I say the wrong things? What was wrong with me?


After that, two things changed. First, I started going for the easy targets. People like Josh and Kyle. People whose interest in me I was completely aware of. I didn't really like either of them to begin with, but ended up convincing myself that I did. My love felt reciprocated. I lowered my standards.


The second thing that happened was that I became a much flirtier person. Not intentionally, in fact I honestly didn't notice it for a really long time. But it was a good weapon to have. That way, I never had to tell a boy when I liked him, and if he called me out on my feelings for him, I could blame it on my flirty personality and deny any actual interest. How clever my thirtheen-year-old subconscious was.


Today, I face rejection again. I'm not crying. I don't wonder what is wrong with me. Equally as important, I don't wonder what is wrong with him. I hate it when girls justify it by saying, "If he doesn't notice how great you are, he doesn't deserve you. There is nothing wrong with you and everything wrong with him. What a big stupid oaf." Because that's ridiculous. I like him. I like him because he's smart, funny and charming. Obviously there's nothing wrong with him. And there's nothing wrong with me. It's just not clicking this time.


Either I've become desensitized, or I'm growing up.