Recently, I discovered my fear of rejection lurking within me.
For the longest time, I wasn’t consciously aware that this fear existed within me. It was one of those shadow parts of me that I never openly acknowledged or accepted. Instead, this fear was often buried deep within me, treated as if it never existed.
To me, it feels so vulnerable & naked to even admit that I hold the fear of rejection. That a part of me is afraid of being disliked by others around me, that strives to be a people pleaser, prioritising others’ needs & wishes at my own expense.
Today, I would like to reflect on my past experiences, which caused me to form this fear of rejection. I would also like to reflect on my coping mechanism in dealing with this fear of rejection all these years.
As with most of my fears, it could be traced all the way back to my primary school memories.
As shared in my earlier blog posts, it was a deeply traumatising experience for me, when I was forced to switch schools & adjust to life in a new primary school. For a few years, I felt completely ostracised by almost everybody I knew, be it my parents, teachers & classmates alike. A part of me associated this rejection to my inability to live up to the expectations of others placed upon me, to be that model student who excels academically & in all areas of my life. Instead, I felt like a complete failure. I was labelled as a “troublemaker” that almost every teacher detested. In class, I would often be publicly scolded, criticised, caned or even chased out by the teachers due to my tardiness. As a result, I was also shunned by my classmates, many of whom had already formed their circle of friends before I joined.
For a few years, I felt completely alone in this world. I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere. I even wondered why I was kept alive, and whether I even had a purpose on earth. My presence felt completely redundant.
I coped with all the pain & agony as a “loner” in school, by closing & hardening my heart to everyone around me. Back then, it felt like this was the only option available to me. At one stage, my heart felt like it was bleeding profusely & completely shattered by the hurtful words & actions of others around me. Along with it, my self-esteem & confidence were crushed. To protect myself from further harm, I built an invisible barrier all around me, shielding me from everyone around me.
In those years, every day when the alarm bell rang to signal break time, I would be the first few to dash out of my classroom to the canteen. As a creature of comfort, I would queue at the same stall (which my mum brought me to on the first day of school) to buy a bowl of fried rice for 50 cents. I would gobble it down within 5 minutes, and spent the remaining break time hiding in the library. In this way, I shielded myself from bumping into any of my classmates in the canteen. To a certain extent, I anticipated the rejection from my classmates, and I chose to avoid those social settings in which they would be present.
As a result of the immense stress that I took on as a “loner” in school, I ended up putting on extra weight. My weight gain was ridiculed by my dad, who started calling me nicknames like “fat pig” and “fat one”. On one occasion, after the school holidays, I put on so much weight that I had trouble fitting into my school skirt. My mum was sympathetic & suggested to buy me new sets of school skirt, to cater to my bigger waist line. However, in quiet retaliation to my dad’s verbal bullying, I refused. Instead, I forced myself to fit into the same school skirt, and starved myself for weeks, before I eventually went back to the original size.
Back then, the school’s library was my sanctuary. It was the only safe space that I could find in the entire school. A space where I could be all alone with myself, shielded from the judgements, criticisms, scolding & bullying by anyone else. A space where I could freely touch & read books at my leisure, without feeling unwelcomed or like an outcaste. A space where I could quietly sob to myself & regain my will to live, on days when I felt completely lost & miserable. I wouldn’t have survived those difficult years had I not discovered the school’s library.
When I finally graduated from primary school & moved on to a neighbourhood secondary school, I was so relieved.
It didn’t matter that I was in one of the worst secondary schools in the northern region. All that mattered to me was that I was offered a clean break from my primary school, and a new start in my secondary school. To me, it felt like death of the rejected past and rebirth of the new soul. I was very excited when this new chapter of my life unfolded.
What I didn’t realise, however, was that I continued to carry this fear of rejection deep within me.
Most of the time, I was known to others to be extremely strong-willed, determined & hardworking. I studied very hard and excelled academically, in a place where most students couldn’t be bothered with their studies. At the same time, I was very committed to, and excelled in, my extra-curricular activities as the pioneer batch of The Girls’ Brigade (13th Company). I was the subject of praise & recognition by teachers & students in the school. It was as if my secondary school self was a whole new persona from my primary school self. In this encouraging & welcoming space, my self-esteem & confidence started growing once more.
Yet, my fear of rejection stayed within me, often unnoticed. As I enjoyed being well-liked & accepted by teachers & students, I would do everything I could to conform to social norms generally accepted by them. For example, I would force myself to be more extroverted & outgoing, and adopt a cheerful, optimistic & generous personality to others around me. I would meticulously observe how others speak or act, and research into their preferences, in an attempt to fit in with the majority. I even went to the extent of tuning in to, and learning to appreciate, the choice of music raved by the majority. To be honest, it was exhausting for me to attempt to change myself & my preferences, in order to fit in with the social circles around me. Further, I would downplay or hide the self-perceived “ugly” or “tainted” parts of me that may be disliked by others around me. For example, I rarely displayed my denser emotions of anger, sadness & disappointment openly, and I rarely allowed others to cross my self-imposed invisible barriers built around me. As a result, people generally find it difficult to read my emotions.
Occasionally, situations would arise, to remind me that there is something unhealed or unresolved within me. In one of the weekly trainings with The Girls’ Brigade, we gathered together to play a game of netball. The referee was a female pastor, who decided on the specific roles that each of us would be assigned with. Almost instinctively, she chose her favourites to take on the key roles of Centre, Goal Attack, Goal Shooter & the like, to be in the heart of action throughout the game. When it came to me & my friend, she had ran out of all available positions, and told us to sit by the sidelines to watch the game. It didn’t even occur to her to substitute any players throughout the entire game. While my friend and I chatted & joked with each other at the sidelines, I felt sadness creeping up from deep within. My heart was quietly sobbing. It felt strangely familiar. At that moment, I was reminded of my primary school days of hiding in the library, excluded from everyone else.
When I moved on to junior college & even my university days, I would always try my best to socialise with everyone around me. It was my means to quickly identify my circle of friends, lest I end up feeling & being all alone once more. Often, I would quietly abide by the social norms generally accepted by the majority, in an attempt to blend in with the rest. I would also quietly follow the majority’s preferences, be it their likes & dislikes, thoughts & beliefs. As I was rather self-conscious of what others may negatively think or say about me, I chose to keep my real emotions & preferences to myself.
If I could summarise, my coping mechanism for the fear of rejection was to enforce “social exclusion” in my primary school days, and to ensure “social inclusion” in my secondary school, junior college & university days.
As I started my inner work, it didn’t cross my mind to reflect on the fear of rejection initially. It wasn’t always prominently displayed; most of the time, it was silently operating in the shadows.
Recently, I was reminded of my fear of rejection, after I made a difficult & personal decision not to be vaccinated. It was a decision which I painstakingly reached after considering the pros & cons of vaccination, my medical condition & associated risks, and in consultation with my Akashic Masters. As much as I know that my decision is aligned to my highest good, it was & still is very difficult for me to deliberately go against the majority’s opinions & rhetoric in the mainstream media. It didn’t help that the workplace policies implicitly discriminate against unvaccinated staff, with the impending implementation of mandatory, regular testing of all unvaccinated staff, in order to “protect all” from Covid.
My fear of rejection was amplified after I discovered that I am the only staff in my division who chose to be unvaccinated. Almost immediately, my mind went into a frenzy, imagining worst-case scenarios of my social exclusion from the others, how I would be a burden to them if they wish to organise team-bonding activities, and even how I would be perceived by others at work. For most of my life, I had tried so hard to ensure “social inclusion” with others around me. Yet, this fragile bubble of “social inclusion” looks all ready to be shattered with the impending workplace policies.
What then could I do to help myself at an individual level?
My Akashic Masters reminded me to have the courage to stand in my own Light. That requires me to release all fears (known or unknown to me) that are preventing or restricting me from embracing my own Light fully. While everyone may have different opinions on this issue, nobody knows my body better than I do. Not even trained medical professionals.
When we develop the sense of inner knowing what is truly in our highest good, do not be afraid of going all out to protect & stand up for ourselves, and to defend & honour the decision that we have painstakingly reached. We respect that everyone has their own versions of truth, as much as they need to respect that you have your own version of truth. May this provide an opportunity to invite the right people & connections into your life, as much as it facilitates the release of old connections that no longer matter. Use this precious time & opportunity to go inwards, center into your inner knowing, and allow yourself to be guided to the truth as it unfolds for you.
And so it is. Blessings to All! 🤍
