My insides were swirling. They say you are your worst critic, but this felt worse than worst.
Delete. Type. Delete. Type again. Send(?). No, too wordy. Delete. Type. Okay, that's good (enough).
The word "Delivered" in small, dark font captioned the blue text-blurb. Numb hands and a soft thunk as object-hit-floor. My heart beating so deeply; it was fighting to break through bones and flesh. Warm tingles from the crown of my head to my knees, then... sleep.
C'est la vie, anxiety.
Well, that's life. At least life with anxiety, right?
I cringed as I typed that^
For reasons I do not understand, my body doesn't respond to stress with anxiety attacks anymore. Some therapists call it progress, some call it a need for better coping skills, and some look at me with the most unfiltered analytical expression. To their response, I add on, "I faint now."
What a plot-twist in the case study... At least it is for my doctor(s).
"College Girl Immaturity"
I hate cancelling and I hate being cancelled on. I hate flaking and I hate being flaked on. I reproach ghosting and I reproach being ghosted.
I abhor rejecting and I abhor being rejected.
That probably seems obvious- what with the "Issue 13" in the title. Yet it wasn't obvious to the person I was texting. The person I was texting just saw me as a girl cancelling plans for the second time in a row. Not a girl who spent 2 HOURS editing a text message to make sure she wasn't a hypocrite to her own series (this truly). Not a girl who fainted from the stress of disappointing them through the very thing she hates (rejection). They entertained no excuses and only saw (as they called it) "college girl immaturity."
Did it matter to them that I have an autoimmune disorder that was eating me alive that day? They said they understood. Just to add on that it was immature of me to cancel.
Maybe it was. To me, it wasn't. After praying for a dose of savoir faire, and passing out from the stress of it all, I couldn't entertain their opinion of me.
Savoir Faire > College Girl Immaturity
This series has built an incredible sense of fortitude and self-assurance for me. The more I share with you, the more I am able to identify situations of rejection and toxicity. My ability to put things into perspective has bloomed into a mature, beautiful flower of wisdom.
Savoir Faire is a french noun (like Pastiche). Savoir Faire is the ability to choose the right course of action in drawing upon social skills. So where they saw college girl immaturity, I saw Savoir Faire.
I felt the pain of the rejection I was issuing 10-fold to my rejectee. While I can't say that they did not pass out for certain, I'll go ahead and make the assumption that they didn't faint from the rejection they received. And I can assure that if it was not a safety concern, I would not have sent that text. But my safety, well-being, and health were on the line. And here's an important thing to remember: Yes, God is always taking care of you. He did this when He created us to be self-aware. Self-aware of our health, our texts, our actions. All 3 of these are things I did my best to respect.
Sometimes, even the worst rejections are a result of someone's Savoir Faire. Some people have bad Savoir Faire, some are growing in it, and others are fully mature in the concept. The point is, a rejection is not someone seeking to ruin you. It's a self-preserving act, not an act of unprovoked retaliation.
Putting things in perspective is one of the keys to surviving rejection.
Hopefully you are learning along with me.
All the Peace,