sustained on rejection

am i sustained by
like a panda
by bamboo…did rejection
become my staple
& now
now that the bamboo
is scarce
do i actively seek
past greener pastures
to find my
of bitter rejection
where i can sit
& gorge myself
on defeat?

one of the problems with not always being able to illustrate my thoughts as i write them (this one was written 10 days ago & i am just getting to it) is that i do not always remember what sparked my free verse ramblings.

my childhood was a big pot of rejection. out of six kids, i was nobody’s favorite. my younger sister (closest in age to me) was mortified by me & even suggested i do myself in. my peers at school actively avoided me. i was charlie brown on valentine’s day. i eventually had to go to a neighboring town to find a boy strange enough to kiss me.

so…did rejection become a familiar “friend” that i sought out as my adult life began? seeking out the boys who didn’t want me. focusing on them. throwing myself, relentlessly, at them. sending out stories to publishers without first attaining the necessary writing skills. staying on the fringes. watching, but never joining.

do i still seek out rejection? will i ever stop expecting rejection? will i ever believe i am good enough that i will not be rejected? has it become a self-fulfilling prophesy that keeps me exactly where i am?

just some musings as i wait to be rejected by a publisher & an art award…not even entertaining the idea of dating because–look at me–who the fuck would want this?

the other day i read my tarot cards. they told me that i need to learn to like myself. they told me to stop obstructing myself. to stop living in fear of moving forward.
but…i am not sure i know how to do that.
they never tell me how to do it.

11 thoughts on “sustained on rejection

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  1. I like this format of illustration and verse accompanied by prose. I feel like I’m getting three different perspectives, and they work in concert to elaborate on some nuance that may have otherwise gone unnoticed.
    Pain and rejection seem to be the only things widely available for free in this world. It breaks a lot of people by filling them with hate and bitterness. An artist, on the other hand, is able to turn it into something beautiful. And that’s exactly what you did here.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. thank you! that means a lot to me–as that is one of the reasons why i create & write & share what i do. you are actually the first person to comment on my using 3 different perspectives. i always wonder how it comes off to others…but i keep doing it because i find it is the most satisfying way for me to express myself.
      thank you

      Liked by 2 people

  2. our brains stay in the trauma pattern until something or someone jolts us out of it. I have all these different negative patterns, defense mechanisms I guess. a series of masks under masks under more masks that I have hidden behind at various points in life, and they stay until I get jolted out of some of them, one by one, by various things happening to me, and me surrendering to the experience and letting it break me, break that pattern, so I could get stronger. LIke you have to kinda tear muscles to build them up. used to be afraid of every thing, especially my own emotions. I finally met a friend who loves me anyhow, no matter how pathetic and annoying I think I am when I am whining about stuff, and instead of hushing me or saying it’s not that bad, she’s able to look at me in the face with loving compassion and tell me which things I am unecessarily catastrophizing about, which things I can let go, and which things I can actually change. I told her my insecurities and cried til my nose bled, copiously, all over her trash can, and she just kept handing me tissues til the box was gone, never losing patience with me, letting me cry out years worth of self-pity and inadequacy. Never once did she get grossed out, or look like she wanted to get away. That’s love! She insists that it comes from God. I think so, but also it comes through her, her particularity, her combination of flaws and empathies and experiences. It’s friends that can heal each other. no one can do it alone. You are strong and awesome and have lots to give. Sending you healing energy as you deal with this tangle of grieving/being relieved about the death of your asshole father. It’s ok to be relieved he’s gone. It’s also ok to wish he had been less of an asshole. It’s ok to still be tied up in all kinds of patterns you built to protect yourself from his assholery and all the other assholes who have been assholes to you. But none of those things change the fact that you have a big empathetic heart and you’re a badass who deserves to love herself.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. thank you ❤
      it has definitely helped me to do & to share this art journal & find people who understand and are able to relate & let me know i am not alone.
      thank you!

      Liked by 1 person

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