Hello! hello! It’s Friday, it’s sunny and REJECTION THERAPY IS OVER. Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah.
I’d like to say it’s been a triumphant month but it hasn’t. It was so un-triumphant I stretched it over two months and even then I bombed. Oh well, such is life…
When I started it, I’d planned to do all sorts of wacky things – audition for a show! Go to Claridge’s and ask them to let me take a nap (thank you Victoria for that idea), phone up Buckingham Palace and ask if I could come to their garden party (again, thank you Victoria).
But as it turned out, I could not make myself do any of this.
I remember it like it was yesterday. I was nine years old and it was our school lunch break. It was grey and cloudy and the tarmac was wet from earlier rain. I had nobody to play with because my best friend was off sick and my second best friend was in a music lesson, so I walked up to three girls in my class and asked if I could play with them. I remember one of them was eating Smiths crisps, (the ones with the little navy sachet of salt in them) and another was eating a box of raisins. They were nice girls, not mean girls, but they looked at me and said they’d have to think about it. Continue reading →
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Hello! How’s everyone? Did you have a nice weekend?
I celebrated by drinking lots of wine. As per usual. This is bad because enlightened self-help lovers don’t seek happiness at the bottom of a bottle – but it’s also good because I’m more likely to do rejection therapy when I’m drinking.
This time it was asking to join the band, pull a pint and ride a stranger’s motorcycle. Hurrah! I’m back with bells on…
It all happened on Friday night, when I went out with my sister and her best friend. We had a very civilised dinner (well, not that civilised but there was no rejection therapy involved) and then we went to a pub, which happened to have a jazz band playing.
Thank you so much for the lovely messages on Friday – they were really kind, especially the ones which told me to spend the week watching crap TV as an antidote to self-improvement. It turned out to be too sunny to do that but I wholeheartedly approve of the sentiment.
Thanks also to the reader who told me he liked me more for being knackered, grumpy and fed up with it all. I promise you that knackered, grumpy and fed up is my natural state but it’s frowned upon in self-help land so I’ve been keeping those moments to myself. I’ll let them all hang out in the future…
But for now, my self-help loathing is sort of over and I’m back on the saddle again by asking total strangers if I can play tennis with them and shoot some hoops.
Well the last couple of weeks have been a struggle. We’re now the middle of May and I HAVE NOT BEEN DOING REJECTION THERAPY properly and I’m beating myself up over it. Shock horror – finding ways to be rejected everyday is hard, stressful and uncomfortable. So I just haven’t been doing it. I’ve been making excuses, saying I’ll double up tomorrow or that I’m too busy with journalism work etc.
Then I did what I always do when I’m unhappy/overwhelmed: I got sick.
I’ve spent most of this week in bed with a cold, hiding from rejection and anything self-help related.
I think I’m just tired.
The four months of jumping out planes/wallowing in my bank statements/chatting up strangers has taken its toll. The high points have been really high but it’s all quite intense.
I am spun out from waking up in the morning and thinking ‘how can I get rejected today?’, I have stopped looking at my bank accounts and telling myself my life is ‘full of abundance.’ It’s not. It’s full of debt. As for the affirmations and belief that ‘it’s all happening perfectly’, well, that’s gone out the window too.
Last Friday night and I’m in the supermarket. My tummy is rumbling but I’m not looking for something for dinner, or even a bottle of wine, I’m looking for a man. Yup. Again.
This rejection therapy month appears to be turning into a ‘throw yourself at men and see what happens’ month.
And before you ask about The Greek, he is now back in Greece for the summer. He’s messaging me from Starbucks in Athens and I’m replying from whatever coffee shop I’m in but I don’t think it’s going to go anywhere. He’s a lovely man and I so grateful that we met but our lives are in different places. Literally.
Because I’m now a weird self-help junkie I believe that our paths were meant to cross and that we both made each other’s lives better but that doesn’t have to mean we stay together forever. Look at me being all open and New Age-y…
Anyway, I’ll keep you posted but in the meantime I want to keeping facing my fears when it comes to men.
My lovely friend Adrian got married at the weekend to an equally lovely girl called Stephanie. For many years Adrian had a checklist of what his perfect woman would be like and despite countless speed dates/internet dates, he never found one that ticked off everything.
We worried that he would never meet his perfect woman and that his standards were unrealistically high. Until he met Stephanie. I wasn’t there but the story goes that the first time he took her to meet his friends they went to a bar that played hip hop and served ribs. She ate the ribs and knew the lyrics to every hip hop track that came on.
Our friends’ words to Adrian were simple: ‘Marry her.’