The Original Sin

REJECTION: The original wound

That’s where this relationship, this break up, this inner torment has lead me – to my original wound. I know and have always known that since this break up happened it wasn’t so much about him, the relationship or the break up. Hell, I knew all along he had emotional issues and I knew all along it wasn’t going to last. I was always waiting for the next shoe to drop. I knew I couldn’t stay with someone whom I thought was emotionally unhealthy and whereas his behaviours (not mean) hurt me and made me feel…well rejected.

I went through feeling a connection with someone, feeling happines, feeling joy and helping someone open up and grow (and that happened to a certain extent), but when it stopped: I went through heartache, I went through attachment, I went through obsession, I went through self-hate, I went through resentment, I went through blame, I went through codependency, I went through ego pride. And going through all these layers (over and over again) brought me to the core wound: Rejection.

So what does rejection, then, mean to me? It must mean something very bad, very dark and ugly if it created all these other painful and destructive layers. Of course, they all were originally created as layers of protection. Protection from an emotion that was too confusing and too painful to look at.  This feeling that I most likely experienced in childhood at a very young age from someone I loved and looked up to, someone I thought was there to guide me, protect me and love me (in a healthy way.) So what meaning did I give this feeling, this feeling that I am sure I didn’t have a name for, let alone an understanding of? I guess I made it mean that I am not good enough, I am not worthy, I am not special enough, I have nothing special to offer, I am inferior, my thoughts and feelings are not valid, I am not worthy of healthy mature love and so on…

Which then lead me to look for validation of who I am through others… anyone, and obviously through others that have very similar dysfunctions as the original wounder. It led me to not believe in myself, to feel inferior, to not voice my opinion, to not be self-confident, to not trust my own thoughts and feelings, to be powerless and a victim and be unable to soothe my own pain. The feeling of rejection – rather perhaps actually just the belief of being rejected, has not only clouded my vision of who I am really am, but it has clouded my vision of others. And thus I project. Perhaps I project my true power, that in which I have not been able to connect to, onto others thus believing they are so wonderful, confident, talented, worthy and I cannot live without them. But I am wise at the core, because I do eventually see the real person but it becomes so difficult to believe what I see, to believe what I know deep down.

This feeling of rejection has even clouded my meaning of rejection. After all I was the one who chose not to accept him and his behaviours in my brief moment of connecting to my power. After all I do know that another’s behaviours have nothing to do with me and it is their crap, so rejection really isn’t REAL. My illusion. My delusion.