In general, rejection hurts. It cuts deep to our core, makes us doubt everything we were once confident in, and has a nasty habit of sinking its teeth into our most vulnerable places. What could possibly be worse than rejection? Rejection from someone we really care about.
Sophomore year of high school was anything but easy for me. I struggled with anxiety, depression, and PTSD surrounding my two oldest brothers moving far away, getting stalked, having my life seriously threatened, being quarantined, and finding out my boyfriend had been cheating on me. I woke up every morning wondering what else could possibly go wrong at this point, as it had felt like I had been thrown through every loop in existence. My three senses of stability were rooted in God, my mom, and my very best friend. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have made it this far.
It was a Saturday morning in April, and everything felt just fine. The normal anxiety and stress that I felt daily were there, but other than that, it seemed as though I was untouchable. In fact, I was healing emotionally and mentally; I had attended therapy religiously, determined to get help rather than remain stuck in the rut that was my mind, and it was working wonders. Then my phone chimed with a text from my best friend.
You know those moments where your phone rings or you get a letter in the mail, and you just know that something is horribly wrong? All of a sudden your heart starts pounding and your hands get all clammy as you question whether it would be better to read whatever this horrible message is now, or if you should wait. Looking at my phone, that same sense of horror completely washed over my body. I started shaking as I unlocked my phone to read this massively long text that the closest person to me had sent.
My vision started going blurry and I felt like I was going to faint as all the blood rushed out of my face.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
“You’re toxic.”
“You’re manipulative.”
“You have control issues.”
“I can’t be friends with someone so tunnel-visioned.”
She didn’t even have the respect to call me and explain why she was cutting me off. My best friend, the one person who I talked to everything about through family issues, anxiety, PTSD, court dates, restraining orders, and nightmares, just lit a match to our friendship with a text.
I was not okay for weeks after that. I tried to change everything about myself. I was upset, self-conscious, scared, and alone. I cried every single day, feeling like I would never be enough. My “best friend” hates everything about me, my boyfriend couldn’t commit because I didn’t want to sleep with him, and I was stuck in the middle of a trial to convict the person who was planning on murdering me. Never have I ever felt so alone and desperate.
Obviously, rejection, in general, hurts like a punch to the gut, but I took what my best friend said even farther than just to heart because she saw me at my most vulnerable state. Most angering of all, I was able to admit that some of what she said was true, such as me having control issues, but what she pointed out were all symptoms of my anxiety, and were things I had been working really hard to improve on while in therapy. It felt like I had been working so hard to heal and get better, and someone looked at all my blood, sweat, and tears, and decided it simply wasn’t enough.
It took about 3 months of talking to my mom, my pastor, and my therapist to really get over how she mercilessly pointed out all of my flaws and imperfections. While a part of me wishes it had never happened and misses her from time to time, I know that it was necessary. Not because I really am not good enough, but because it made me realize that I was trying too hard to make an unhealthy friendship work. She and I both suffered from severe anxiety and were eerily similar in how our anxiety showed. We thought that this was enough grounds to build a friendship on and that it would be a great relationship to harbor because we would understand each other. The issue with this logic is that you can’t help someone with their anxiety if you can’t even handle your own.
The friendship “breakup” I went through forced me to stop trying to attend to everyone else’s needs and really sit down and pay attention to my own. I was no longer distracted by trying to appease my best friend, my boyfriend, and all of my teachers. I was completely alone and had 4 weeks off of school due to quarantine, so there was literally no excuse for me to avoid addressing my own issues. I cleaned and reorganized my room, started a rigorous workout routine, began eating healthier, started tapping into old friendships that I had ignored when I met my best friend, and reconnected with things that I love, such as painting, reading, writing poetry, and diving into marine biology.
Working through all of the pain and trauma that sophomore year entailed, I learned incredible things about myself. I learned that I am mind-blowingly strong and in tune with my emotions. I have built fantastic friendships with a group of people from my church who have also seen me at my worst and decided to stick around and love me, rather than accuse me of deeply-ingrained toxicity for being imperfect.
Rejection is awful; however, without it, I would be down 10 new bet friends, better mental health, and crazy self-love.