Rejection, plain & simple
When I was a kid I was NOT athletic in the least. I was a bookworm, loved to read anything I could get my hands on. When we had spelling bees, I usually won. Classroom games were fun for me. But out on the playground was a totally different story. I absolutely hated it when the teacher would pick two team captains and have them choose their team members because I was ALWAYS the last one chosen. In fact, there were times when the “captains” would actually argue over who would HAVE to have me on their team. I’d feel my face burning flaming red with the humiliation, and I’d hang my head and hope nobody would see the tears in my eyes because then they’d taunt me even more about being a cry-baby. My first big dose of rejection – and somehow that feeling never quite goes completely away. With every form of rejection throughout my life, I still can feel that hurt, deep in the pit of my stomach. Recently I’ve had to slog through what seems like an endless pit of cr...