I’ve always joked with my friends after a love-story gone wrong, “don’t worry, I’m really good at rejection.” I've always prided myself on being able to navigate heartache. I've held tightly to my ability to be bold and declare my feelings for someone with little fear of their response. But as I've gotten older, I've found that I've become less and less inclined to put my heart on the line. Perhaps it’s because I’ve experienced disappointment and don’t want to feel it again, or because I realize more is at stake, or because I’ve simply had more time to let the walls around my heart grow taller. Whatever the reason, I’ve recently realized that I’m terrified at the possibility of rejection and in turn, it’s left me paralyzed in my pursuit of love. Fair warning, this post is about to get really real.
When Fear Stands in Our Way
Whenever we fear something, it’s reasonable that we create safeguards to protect us. If you fear illness, you wash your hands. If you fear dying in a car crash, you put on your seatbelt. While fear often does its job in protecting us, fear can also keep us from pursuing things that our heart desires.
Lately, I’ve noticed that I’ve been letting fear keep me on the sidelines. I’ve created an army that will battle potential at every point. Online dating? I’ll have so many criteria that I’ll count you out before you even get a chance. Finally find someone I’m interested in? I’ll overanalyze our interactions until I’ve convinced myself you’re not interested. I’ve even used friendship as a weapon against myself.
Let’s talk about the dreaded “friendzone.” We’ve heard many a guy in movies, or even our own lives, lament about the friendzone. It’s the disappointing place of being close, but not close enough. It’s a unique kind of rejection that tells you that you’re an amazing person, just not the kind that “gets the girl.”
But for me, I’ve found that, subconsciously, it’s become a place of refuge – a safeguard from the risk of rejection. In many relationships with men who I could see a future with, I have carefully curated my spot as their “friend” – close enough to know the benefit of a relationship with them, but distant enough that I maintain my image of the “chill girl who plays sports and can hold her liquor but won’t embarrass herself by getting invested.”
So for being someone who’s so willing to share her soul on the internet, I’ve had to do some real reflection on why I’m so scared to be vulnerable in this area. So, as the Grinch says, “what is the DEAL?”
Warping our View of Our Worth
If I’m honest with myself, most of my fear ties back to my ideas about my own worthiness. When I was young, someone close to me shared some (what they believed to be) wisdom. They told me, "pretty people marry pretty people,” and though they didn’t exactly spell it out, I knew they were telling me that I wasn’t that pretty and that I should set my expectations as such. As I’ve grown older, I’ve realized that this belief has underscored every relationship I’ve observed and informed every relationship I’ve considered. Ultimately, I’ve looked at some men and told myself there’s no way they would ever be interested, so I shouldn’t even try. Every time I’ve been pursued by someone I’ve deemed more attractive than me, I’ve held on to it tightly, showing all of my friends their picture as if it were a prize I was suddenly worthy enough to receive, trying to convince myself that it was true.
On top of not seeing myself as worthy, I’ve convinced myself that vulnerability, specifically in relation to romance, is equal to weakness. I wanted to become this strong, impenetrable woman who can weather rejection, and in turn, I’ve become a woman who can weather rejection because she never gives herself the opportunity to experience it.
Reading Brene Brown’s book Daring Greatly, I was struck by her evaluation of our willingness to be vulnerable. She says, "The level to which we protect ourselves from being vulnerable is a measure of our fear and disconnection. When we spend our lives waiting until we’re perfect or bulletproof before we walk into the arena, we ultimately sacrifice relationships and opportunities that may not be recoverable.”
At that moment, I realized that my own fear was keeping me from the very relationship I so desired. I created an identity that isn’t informed by anything other than the lies and expectations I’ve created in my own heart and mind. Ultimately, I created an identity that didn’t reflect what God thought of me.
Pursuing Honest Vulnerability
I don’t know if there’s much advice in the midst of this blog, but I do know that I owed it to myself and YOU to be honest. Even though I have a blog about dating, I’m not a dating expert. I know I AM working to remind myself of my worth. I know I AM rewriting the narratives that live in my heart and mind. I know I AM going to push myself to pursue vulnerability.
A friend told me today, if it didn’t terrify us, it wouldn’t be worth it. So here’s to facing our fears and getting the courage to text that boy, knowing full well it might be met with apathy, but giving my heart the chance to believe I might just get a text back.
