Hana Shafi The Rejects

Rejection is inevitable.

Regardless of sureness or caution, there will always be a point in life where you will really like someone—fuck, you might even love them (you poor sucker, you)—and they will not feel the same. And people are going to tell you it’s okay because they weren’t good enough anyways, and you’re really young, and really smart and hot and all the absurdly positive stuff your friends are going to proclaim. And anyone who has faced some form of romantic rejection knows that these pep-talks and motivational speeches are going to go in one ear and out the other. Because rather than thinking yeah, that person is an idiot for turning away someone so great, you’re going to see it as: well if I’m as hot and smart and amazing as everyone seems to say I am, why did I get rejected?

They will subsequently revert to another popular answer: everything happens for a reason. Sympathetic friends will say that this person exiting your life, means an opportunity for a new, better person to enter. We’ve all heard it time and time again: “now you can meet someone new!” 

But why should our solace after being rejected rest entirely on the notion that someone new will come into our lives? Is it really a good idea to place any prospects of future happiness solely on this idea that someone else is going to come along? There will surely be someone else, but that might not happen anytime soon; not next month, not in the next five months, maybe not in the next year. And then what? 

Instead of people insisting to that broken-hearted reject that they will be happy soon because someone will come along, why can’t we say: you can get through this and be happy even while being single. Friends will remind you that you deserve to have your love returned, but the good things we deserve don’t always come to us right away. It takes time; time and rejection.

So in the meantime, take rejection as it goes. Don’t make a whiney passive aggressive Facebook status or have some dramatic friend of yours send a snarky tweet. Don’t senselessly like all their crap on Facebook in some pathetic attempt to guilt trip then. Do have a beer. Don’t have so many that you’re calling them crying and potentially vomiting at the same time. Do shamelessly flirt with lots of people and give them the sexy eyes, or whatever that thing is. Don’t drunkenly wrap your arms around the first person you lay eyes on that happens to be standing by themselves.

Right now, you are the reject; but you can be a classy, badass reject too (it sounds weird, I know, but just go with it). 

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