Rejection and writing

Today featured three micro-rejections.

Nothing big.

Well, that’s not quite true: once upon a time, all three would have qualified as big. But today, none feels that big. Two, by women in a sexual context. One, by a woman in a non-sexual context.

Once upon a time, there would have been a clear course of action that followed a wound to my narcissism like any one of the three rejections I suffered today: I would act out sexually. Most likely, by calling a massage parlor and booking a handjob. Right now. (I had the time.)

If all three happened? I’d be sent into a tailspin, descend into a vortex.

But not today.

Today? I aimed for a coffee shop and sat down and wrote.

And I have to say, I think I wrote pretty well, pretty productively. So there’s that. Winking smile

Plus, I have a smile on my face. While each of the rejections stung – I’m not capable of receiving a rejection and not being stung – the sting was more like that of a gnat than that of a hornet.

All good.

Wicked Wednesday


  1. Why do you think it didn’t sting as much as it would’ve in the past? I experience the same. Some things hurt more than they should, others don’t hurt as much as it did in the past. Is it because we are getting older? Milder? Interesting musings…

    Rebel xox

    1. Oh, I don’t think it necessarily stung any less. I think what was different was my reaction to the sting. In the past, I would recoil, and act. Nowadays, I’m far more prone to sit, watch, feel.

  2. I find myself in the same position as Rebel, wondering what has possibly changed for you, if anything. Maybe you don’t know the answer to that and it was purely just an in the moment reaction that was different from the past.


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