Rejection is not the weapon I thought it was

 I had this revelation recently that reframed rejection for me. I struggle a lot with the fear of rejection. I have participated heavily with self-rejection and self-abandonment. 

I had this reframe that I believe nullifies rejection in a way for me. I had this realization that people weren't rejecting me because I was unworthy or because I was this 'bad' person. I realized their rejection didn't affect who I am, the core of my identity, but people's rejection of me came from their incapacity of being able to receive and fully understand me. 

There's a toy that parents get for their kids called a Shape Sorting Cube. Children have fun by sorting the various shapes into the corresponding opening in the cube, a square shape into a square opening, a circle shape into a circle opening, etc. If my being were a star, and the person I was hoping to find common ground with had only a cube that didn't have a star-shaped opening for me to fit into, they don't have the capacity to receive me. 

How I understood rejection was that there was something inherently wrong with me for not being a square or circle that could fit into that person's cube. I was wrong, so to fit into that person's cube, I ended up cutting parts of myself into a shape that fit.  Who I was to my core was wrong, it was bad, unworthy, and not enough. Each time I experienced any form of rejection, or anything that might appear as rejection, it would only reinforce this story I was telling myself, that there was something inherently wrong with my existence. 

If who I am was wrong, that meant I couldn't be myself, so from a very young age, I've played many caricatures of myself in the hopes of being chosen and being seen as worth it, as enough. Unaware that I, too, was dealing out rejection wounds to myself. Not only was I suffering from rejection wounds from other people, but I exacerbated those wounds by cutting out those very parts that I internalized to be shameful or bad. 

I am realizing a different truth: the rejection that I experienced had nothing to do with who I am at my core, my identity. I wasn't bad or unworthy or not enough; I wasn't shameful. My existence mattered. Just like it wouldn't be a be-all and end-all type of situation if I tried to fit a square into a circular opening and it didn't fit. The cube being able to sort only certain shapes into it, and the square not being able to fit, was not the problem. I had no right to hate the cube for not being able to accept squares, and I couldn't hate the square for being a square. That was what I did; I hated myself for being rejected. 

The people who rejected me didn't have the capacity or space to receive me. I am not saying this is the case for every situation, but for some it is. It's this deeper understanding that you truly can't please everyone, our finiteness, our limitedness, our uniqueness, make that impossible. That's not bad either, that's a gift, we were created different and unique because it matters, our voices matter, our existence matters. We are all like puzzle pieces, each with our own unique place and position in the full puzzle, not one greater or lesser than the other.

I have gotten so good at playing caricatures of myself. If you asked me who Angelique was, I would be at a loss for words. I do not know who I am. 

I had this realization a couple of years ago on a walk that all along I had been running away from myself all my life. At that time, God was requiring me to come to a halt and meet Angelique. There was this feeling of having to sit down in front of a mirror and come face-to-face with her. All the parts of me I rejected and killed, the parts I had, in hate, cut with such malice of heart. The parts that seemed to me to be filled with shame and unworthiness. But Jesus Loved. 

Jesus loved her with such gentleness and care, whereas I would cast her aside as unworthy, he would pick her up and hold her, and cherish her, and require me to do the same. " What is she worth?" I would sneer in contempt, and " My blood," he would respond. 

I have lost who I am through the many years of self-abandonment, self-rejection, the cutting and shaping, trying to fit into the lives of people I was never meant to fit into. All in vain. Fear of rejection did not serve me; it served the rejection itself. To run away from being rejected, I rejected myself. 

Rejection is not the weapon I thought it was. If a blue whale tried to live on land because it wanted to be human, would it survive? You will not thrive or survive in the places you want to belong if that space wasn't made for you. 

Rejection doesn't define who I am, it doesn't define my worth, it doesn't define what I am capable of, and it has no say. It's just noise.

Rejection doesn't change my worth. If someone rejected gold because they didn't have the knowledge or expertise to recognize gold in its raw form doesn't mean the gold is worthless. Nor is it worth it because someone was able to recognize it. It's just gold; its reception or non-reception doesn't affect its worth.