The Shot of Rejection

Abuse, for each one of us, is a burden to carry. The acts perpetrated against us carry a sentence that equates, ultimately, to rejection.

My parents continually dismissed me. Their refusal to see me, offer any comfort or love that I needed as a child, left a blueprint that I followed. That path led me to so many places that were no good.

The problem with that inscription running my inner being was a constant need to satisfy it. I had no worth that I could see, so I would try to earn it. By the very degradation of myself, I attempted to offer anything I had to bystanders.

That would ultimately bring acceptance, right?

My ex-husband had an ex-girlfriend that was around a lot when we first got married. We were both pregnant with our first children at the same time. When I heard that she did not have a bassinet for her baby, I gave her mine. Surely, this act would help me find kindness with her and with my husband.

Later, I learned that they had been together on a few inappropriate occasions. What was worse – I never did get a replacement for that bassinet I gave her.

What a moron I was.

It’s so sad as I go back through my life and see all the effort I spent trying to quiet the rejection that lurked so strongly in my soul. Its voice spoke to me and told me I was worthless. It mocked me daily telling me I had no value.

I had allowed such distasteful and abusive treatment by so many people all because I had not been loved.

As a diabetic takes insulin when they are in a reaction, so my soul was steady on finding connection at any cost. The problem was I was looking for love in the all the wrong places.

Trying to stay with family who would ultimately betray me. Trying to make abusive relationships work. Trying everything but while still avoiding the whole truth of my experiences.

The full truth of my story, I came from nothing good.

That’s not easy to say.

I love that my counselor had me change that just a bit. He said, “Jodie, if Mother Teresa was 90% good, she most likely had 10% bad. So, your father being 90% bad, possibly had 10% good.”

That helped me a little. You know, not being so black and white.

What helped me the most was a gigantic God who chases me to endlessly tell me He loves me. He tells my warfare is over and that He longs to comfort me.

In His arms I will rest from my rejection journey.