Today I am supposed to write three times I did something I didn’t want to do; or didn’t do something I did want to do; for fear of rejection.
My reaction to this (as with the past two) is I don’t do that. I don’t feel that. It’s a sort of delusional denial.
They have to be earliest memories.
1. Hmmm blank. I never feared rejection from my family (parents or sister). Friends? Not really as early memories. First things that come to mind are around sex with boys. Occasionally, I went “futher” than I wanted to but I’m not sure it was fear of rejection and more so naivety and ignorance. Which I adjusted pretty quick.
2. I can think of plenty of recent times when I have done something I didn’t want to do – including paying a hippy for a car accident, watching kids tv, helping with maths homework, working on a sunny day when I would rather be in bed with my fella. Although to be honest it still doesn’t feel like fear of rejection and more just “a responsibility”. I can also think of plenty of times I had to pass up something I wanted to do, but again, it is for reasons of common sense and responsibility rather than fear of rejection.
I suspect there is some denial around this fear because it’s drawing a lot of blanks and dollops of justification.
3. Here’s something that comes up: when I was 9 or 10 my parents sent me to a girls-only private school. Thanks, I was the poor kid surrounded by loads of rich girls that already knew each other. To make it more torturous, they (my folks) bought me the wrong school uniform. I used to like reading these “choose your own adventure books”, and I had them all piled on my desk. Some of the other girls used to tease (reject) me. I thought about it and I did feel isolated and rejected. It was a theme that followed me for a few years after, through school. I was always circunstantally friendless (the new girl); probably a bit odd; and socially unhappy. I didn’t fear rejection I just was rejected and I didn’t really know any different. Huh.