Note: This email has been revised to protect the identify of the person who submitted it.
“Dear Melissa [Missy? What do you want to be called?],
I’ve read your blog for awhile, and wanted to ask you about something you write about a lot. I’ve been going through a rough time. I’m desperate for answers. Within a few weeks, I got turned down from a job that I really, really wanted, and got dumped by my long-time girlfriend. I’m not proud of my reactions.
I was furious about the job, and sent back an email I probably shouldn’t have. I exploded on my now ex girlfriend. Apparently, she’s been feeling this way for awhile and decided that after four years, a few weeks before my birthday was the right time to tell me. I tried to get her back, but she said she’s not attracted to me anymore and doesn’t see that changing.
You talk a lot about things happening for a reason, and being vulnerable, but what happens when that vulnerability destroys you? Blows you up? I’m pissed off, I’m angry, I want to throw things but don’t want to come off like a crazy person. I feel like I’m a good person, I treat people well. I gave everything to that relationship, I give everything to my career development, and I always feel like I’m getting the shit end of the stick. Am I just a nice guy? Too nice?
What would you do?
Thanks.
[Name omitted]
Sigh.
Oh, Frank. I feel ya, Frank.
(oh, btw, just decided that is going to be your pseudonym)
It really sucks when you put yourself out there and get shit on. I’ve been there.
Fuck, I am there.
I recently had a moment of extreme vulnerability with someone I really wanted to date. I did the whole Lloyd Dobler/Boombox over the head equivalent about how I wanted to be with them.
I was really proud of myself, because despite the things I write about, I have a hard time opening up with guys. Like, a really hard time. So this was a big deal to me, I felt like I was grabbing life by the balls, being assertive about what I wanted.
And here’s what happened: I got shit on.
Shot down in a way that made me feel like I was tumbling down the side of a mountain, unable to stop, only able to feel every bump, every rock, and every single fucking cacti that hit me on the ass on the way down.
In a serendipitous and bittersweet moment of symbolism, I had actually just tumbled down a mountain. I seriously injured my tailbone snowboarding, so aside from being shafted from the object of my affection, I had literally gotten my ass kicked.
I’ve had to sit on one of those donut things all week.
But that’s the thing about being vulnerable and putting yourself out there – sometimes, it really pays off, and gives you exactly what you want. Other times, not so much.
My most recent experiment with athleticism left me bruised, and the “no thanks” that I received spun me into a brief, yet significant extensional crisis about my own self-worth.
I felt like a sack of shit.
And it didn’t matter that I had other good things in my life. It didn’t matter that I had been brave, and that I had taken chances.
What mattered was that I was standing in an aisle at Target, after hobbling around the store with a sore ass, blankly staring at Post-It notes, with tears welling up in my eyes because I:
a) Didn’t want the Post-Its and don’t actually really care for them anyway
b) Felt really lonely
c) Felt the true depth of my rejection
d) Looked like a gimp
There’s an episode of 30 Rock that I really like (if you don’t watch it, start now), where Jack tells Liz that sometimes, you just have to “climb deeper in the crevasse” in order to get out okay.
That’s what you’re going through right now – you’re stuck, James Franco style, 126 hours, in a canyon of rejection and self-loathing. You feel yourself slipping deeper, and deeper, down into it, and you’re scared. You’re lashing out because you’re angry, and you want these people and situations that have rejected you to feel your pain.
But that’s the thing right there – coming back from rejection is a solo journey. It takes patience and strength. Because you can be stuck in that canyon, and scream at the top of your lungs that it’s unfair, that everything sucks, and demand that whoever hurt you pull you out… but you’re really better off getting out by yourself.
(Or, worst case scenario, you need to cut off an arm.)
It’s going to get a little worse before it gets better. You’ll slip further into that canyon. Just stay relaxed, close your eyes, and after a bit of a free fall, you’ll make your way out of it.
I’m going to give you with two pieces of knowledge that I tout religiously in situations like this, and I really hope they help:
First is a quote by Keith Olbermann that was floating around on Starbucks cups for awhile:
“Don’t take it personally when they say ‘no’ — they may not be smart enough to say ‘yes.”
You know what you’re capable of. You know you were a good candidate, a good partner, and aside from that “NO”, that’s something you’re certain of. Trust your gut – just because you have good intuition doesn’t mean everyone else does. Some people just don’t want to do the work.
That hiring manager needed another skill set you didn’t have, and he didn’t want to teach you. That now ex had her own issues to go through, or had a new romantic interest. When it came to repairing your relationship, she didn’t want to do the work.
It doesn’t make them better than you are. It’s circumstance and laziness. You don’t have control over that. Don’t forget it.
Second is, I want you to have a little fun with this rejection.
Woah, wait – what?
Hear me out.
It sucks to be the second choice, or not a choice at all, but I get the impression that since you self-identify as “the nice guy”, you’re used to (or at least perceive) that you get walked all over. You feel like you’ve been treated unfairly and you’re angry AF about it.
So it could be a really good time to shake things up.
It could be the time to throw some shit at the wall. Rock this. It’s actually surprisingly fun and edgy to be the one who got away, to be the one who doesn’t have anything left to lose because you’re thrown it out there.
Even though it didn’t work out the way you wanted it to, you’re still that brave person that took chances.
That belongs TO YOU. No one – not this employer, not your ex, can take that away from you. You’ve already proved that you can be courageous, that you can take risks when you know you’re already losing… and that’s a very rare, and absolutely admirable trait to have.
As easy as it is to be the first, perfect choice, it’s also way more satisfying to be the second choice. Because then you get to make a comeback. You’ll get something because you worked for it.
So – for the job – that’s just the hiring cycle. Keep with it. Do the work on your end – refining your resume and cover letter. Most employers don’t take a lot of time to look at those, so really find ways to stand out. Try not to take this type of rejection personally (remember: laziness and circumstance).
Job listings are flooded with applications. The fact that you got an interview, even two, is impressive. As for the email you shouldn’t have sent, chalk it up as a mistake and let it be. Maybe in a few weeks you can send a brief apology, but I personally find that owning up to a mistake and then moving on is a much better way to handle these types of things.
For the ex-girlfriend – it’s easy to be strong, confident and sure of what you want when you’re the one walking away. But strip all of that away, and this is still just a person sorting through her own feelings. Don’t exaggerate her into some kind of all-knowing person that has all of the answers, all of the luck. This is about her, not you.
And be proud of the fact that you stood by her for so long. Out of the two of you, you’re the one that was willing to hang in there. You were the one who chose to be vulnerable and fight for what you have/had. Being consistent and reliable is also a rare trait these days, and you should be proud of yourself for sticking around.
Even though it feels like she has the upper hand, you don’t want to be the one leaving. It gives you “the power”, but you’re also the one who decided to leave someone who was committed to you. As you get older, you’ll see that being someone that someone else can count on to stick around, even when things aren’t particularly sexy, new, or exciting, is a very very sought out after thing.
Keep taking chances when it’s difficult to. Continue to be raw and vulnerable. Don’t give up when it’s easy to. A lot of people give into defeat too quickly. Being determined and resilient is a superpower, and it’s one that you and I share, Frank.
Get creative and really fucking try, everything you can, to pull yourself out of this one yourself.
It’ll all be okay. This is your time to shine.
XO,
DL Missy
Driftyland Missy is exclusively published on Driftyland every week (or so). To ask Missy a question (her advice is narcissistic and generally not recommended), email her at driftyland [dot] com.