Tuesday, 5 February 2019


Whether it starts with getting picked last in your P.E class, not making the cut for your Uni course or being told by your significant other you’re no longer desired by them, we all experience rejection throughout our lives. And let’s cut the bullshit, it’s fucking shit. 

My love life... let me rephrase. My non-existent love life is a constant show reel of rejection. It’s like the reel is scratched up, jammed. Stuck on repeat. It’s like a vinyl record, peaking. Reaching your favourite, most magical part of the song but abruptly cutting off without a chime or word to be sung again. 

Rejection is embarrassing. It’s hard to deal with. It makes you question everyone and everything. It makes you wonder how you could be so blissfully unaware of another person’s ulterior motives. It highlights that people will always know the right things to say, when to say them but their actions can’t keep up. They can’t harmonise with the lies. The lines become blurred and the truth comes out. 

I can imagine, for those that bother to read my ramblings, are probably sat there thinking I’m a bitter bitch. And yes, maybe I have become slightly bitter. Maybe I have turned into a cynical young woman, way before her time. Maybe, just maybe, I’m fed up being treated like a disposable sex machine. Good enough to look at, good enough to fuck, good enough to boost one’s ego but certainly not good enough to keep. Thrown away when the job is done.

I’ve never really understood what it is I do that people run away from. Don’t get me wrong, I’m far from bloody perfect and I have many flaws, all of which I’m aware of and work on daily. But what I do know is that I am kind. Not just nice. Not just “oh she’s an alright girl”. I mean truly kind. A kind soul. A heart of gold. I would do anything for anyone, no questions asked, no ulterior motives, no wanting anything in return, no judgment. Just wanting to be good and do good. Wanting to make other people’s lives better, happier and more fulfilled. For someone who’s been through a fuck load of traumatic experiences in such a small frame of time, I sure as hell still have a lot of love to give. Time after time, I do my best to wear my heart on my sleeve, let my guard down and bare my soul. Time after time, I’m shown I should protect my heart and hide it away, keep the guard up, locked and chained. Not to bare my soul for anyone that walks this Earth. 

Maybe that’s what it is. They can smell the desperation of wanting to be loved so badly from miles off. That’s all I’ve wanted. From my earliest memory of a child, I have never felt that I fit in anywhere. I’m an outsider, a loner. I know a lot of people but few of those hardly know me. I don’t have many friends, I never have. I’ve never been close to anyone in my family or even felt like I was loved at all. It’s quite sad, isn’t it? To grow up in a world that’s bursting at the seams with people yet not one of them loves you. Not one of them wants to know you, for you. Not one of them wants to learn your little quirks, your likes and dislikes and not one of them truly cares how you are, how you feel and what really goes on in that mind of yours. And that’s what it comes back to. The way people view me. I’m told I’m so perfect, I’m gorgeous, I’m kind... but only perfect enough to fuck. No more and no less. Only gorgeous enough to have on your arm for a few weeks until you get bored. Only kind enough to take advantage of until the benefit wares off. I’m disposable. Always have been, always will be.

For me, rejection is based around love. Of the lack thereof. I’ve never been with someone that hasn’t cheated on me. I’ve never been with someone that hasn’t lied to my face, gone behind my back and hurt me. I’ve never been with someone who’s just been honest. I’ve never been someone who hasn’t ignored me for days on end, ghosted me. I’ve never been with someone committed and loyal to me. I’ve never been enough and I don’t think I ever will be. 

And maybe, that’s okay. Maybe that’s the way my life is supposed to be. Maybe that’s my path. I love love. I love being in love. I love feeling like I’m loved but if that’s not set out in my path of life, who am I to keep fighting against it? I’m 23 years old and already feel like giving up completely. Well, that’s a lie. I felt like giving up a hell of a long time ago and that feeling has never faded. It’s just become stronger over time. I feel I don’t belong. I’m worn down and broken. I wish someone would be honest with me for once and tell me what the hell is wrong me. Why does everyone leave? 

I feel that I’m an old soul trapped in a young girl’s body and I’m not sure how much more upset, hurt and rejection my fragile heart can take. 

Elle x

No comments:

Post a Comment