You guys. I feel like I’m in a one-act play where the main character has two options: jump out a tenth-story window or psych herself into becoming the CEO of her own mega-branded motivational speaking lifestyle channel. Jesus fucking Christ. Either way, the struggle is real.
This week has been, like, an excruciating exercise in rapid-fire rejection. Two breakup texts in the space of three days, plus obvious ghosting by the Tinder Virgin guy from last week, whose blog post recounting our awful second date I haven’t even gotten a chance to finish yet. And should I add to this list the mutual ghosting between me and boring date guy, who ended up never hitting me up again (probably for the best).
So let’s recap: three rejections after one date, and now this rejection even before the first date! (Though to be fair, I bailed last week on this guy’s originally planned first date, and only after he practically begged me to reconsider did we start talking again this week, and now yet another presumptuous breakup text out of nowhere…)
I’m exhausted from so much of this awful bullshit. But that’s progress. ‘Exhausted’ is better than ‘desperately sad,’ which is where I found myself after my Week of Rejection.
So how am I not eating M&Ms by the 24-oz. bag? By reminding myself (constantly) of my EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON life philosophy. In other words — the people who rejected me had huge red flags anyway, and by not getting wrapped up in their dysfunction, I’m clearing the decks to find my Tinder Prince!
Let’s face it:
Ted was hopelessly awkward and probably on the autism spectrum.
Phil hasn’t had sex in at least eight years because his ex-wife was an obese militant feminist. Plus, he was a high school chemistry teacher. I failed chemistry.
Charlie had a flat monotone and spent the better part of first-date convo on woodworking.
Eric was a pothead (who lied about it) who ditched his first wife with a newborn, fathered three more kids “by accident” and maintains a personal blog and public FB profile that espouse his “personal development journey” and “male-centrist” political views.
VERDICT: No more M&Ms, but I’m not above gummy bears.