Unlocking my Fear
Fear of rejection is a universal and infinitely internalized experience. We all share the fear, but the resulting feelings are highly personal. Feelings are driven by history and perspective.
As a little girl, my parents enjoyed the amorous attentions that having me with them brought. Great care and expense was placed into packaging me — just so. Each had their own, very specific, view of the girl I was to be.
My mother, who manages an ongoing struggle with the truth, would spin varied impressive tales of me to her “Forbes list” friends. Adorned in fashions befitting magazine spreads in similarly appointed rooms. The expectation was that I observe HER Golden Rule, “children are to be seen and not heard”. Above all, I knew not to break THE Cardinal Rule — NEVER contradict her, even and perhaps especially, if it was a fabrication.
My father was a unique one. He was charming and hysterical. Sharp witted and cutting. A warm, sweet, generous, controlling, misogynistic, loving, alcoholic, creative, musical, genius of a man. He loved the idea of encouraging my fancy. I was to be happy and whimsical all the time, but not without bite. His social ambassador, making intros for him as we went through our days. Sweet whimsy for the ladies. Teasing interactions for the men.
The reality was, they were both charmers that networked beautifully. Their *how* was vastly different. Having divergent lives and sets of expectations was both exciting and draining. The hammer that fell when I disappointed one, felt so heavy, it’s weight seemed unbearable. This was my constant childhood fear. Mostly, I was happy. There were moments, however, that I’d explode. The acting out may be large or small but it occurred. I came to hate my parents expectations, as we all do. I rebelled against them and formed me. A me forged with all my own special insecurities.
Some of my insecurities cause me to behave in ways that are horribly misunderstood. These can have reaching and systemic impacts. My parents agreed on little, but they agreed that aesthetics and presentation were significant, at least, for women. There was also agreement on the significance of social connection and gracious behaviors. They couldn’t agree on the physical manifestations of these concepts, but their intents were in line. In my rejections of them, I failed to reject these unified concepts, only their interpretations. In many ways, pluses. But not all.
My obsession with body appearance has had harmful evocations. Often creating inaccurate impressions. The combination of feeling compelled to *represent* aesthetically while maintaing my individuality are pointless indulgences in vanity, to many. The exercise, clothing and make-up are “Clearly designed to garner attentions from men”. The reality, my daily battle is with my desire to be me, while still being acceptable by some arbitrary measure. It’s a people pleasing without pandering to mom, dad or, well… you. A fear of being rejected based on something not representative of me with a fear of failing to please. When I fail this task,to the point of rejection, the agony is only appeased with conviction. Behaviors have been formed as to never expose these areas of insecurity.
Fears and insecurities share the same roots. Moments when you see the connections leave you laughing nervously through tears of joy. Speechless, with an overwhelming desire to tell the world, “I GOT IT!” I read an article today that identifies a dysmorphia surrounding rejection specific to ADHD. [ https://www.additudemag.com/rejection-sensitive-dysphoria-and-adhd/ ] As I read the article it took me. I was Roberta flack walking into that little venue. James Taylor, ‘Killing Me Softly’ on the tiny stage — “I felt he’d found my letters and read each one out loud”. Like the last few pieces to a large puzzle, suddenly I see the picture and the pieces make sense. There is still a bit of work to do but I see me. I see why. I can validate the experiences of those who love me and reconcile them with my own. Hopefully, with a greater capacity to love and be loved. That is my goal. It comes with little releases of fear at a time.