I never realized that I hadn’t been straight-up rejected before until it actually happened for the first time.
To preface, I really don’t put myself out there that much, so there are few opportunities to get rejected. Most of the time, I’ll wait for a guy to come up to me, or I’ll walk up to a guy that won’t stop staring at me to put him out of his misery. However, this past weekend, I found myself at the same party as a guy I’ve had an itty-bitty crush on — I confessed my feelings to him after chatting with him for a little. Before that night, I doubt that he knew I existed.
As you might have already guessed, he promptly shut me down.
I want to make it clear that I don’t hold it against him and, at the time, I just walked away. I’m aware that I’m an acquired taste for some, and everyone has the right to say no.
Regardless, after it happened, I remember turning to my friend in shame, shaking my head from side to side in woe. She said something that struck a chord with me, something that boosted my ego in my time of need: “I’m sorry, but how does he say no to someone that looks like you?”
Now, I don’t want you to picture Virginia Snatch as a girl who looks like Gal Gadot, but I consider myself moderately attractive. Between the incredibly invasive shower I took and my meticulous (but impossibly light) makeup application, I spent a good three hours getting ready for that night — I still think I looked hot as ever, but obviously, he didn’t bite. Either way, I think my friend was mostly referring to how good my boobs looked in the top I chose to wear.
For too long, I’ve thought of men as robots who gravitate to a massive butt or perfectly-adjusted boobs. It baffled me that I looked my best, put on the charm and still got left high and dry. Surely, in the half-hour (!) that we spoke prior to the inevitable rejection, a hair must’ve fallen out of place, or I said something incredibly unattractive. That night, after shedding a few crocodile tears, I began to think about everything that isn’t perfect about me.
So much flooded my mind. Maybe I was too forward, I thought. Maybe I should’ve acted less interested, I wondered.
And then, I realized two things. One, I probably wasn’t the problem, and two, why would I want a guy who doesn’t want me? Would it really have been better if he kissed me and then never spoke to me again? Part of me wants to say yes, it would have, but I know that my feelings would’ve ended up even more hurt.
All my friends were baffled by how long he talked to me, and especially how nothing came out of it at the end of the night. Maybe I was a little surprised too, but I had a good time talking to him, and that was enough closure for me. I put this random guy up on a pedestal in my mind, and then finally got to meet him. It was nice, and that’s that.
I am who I am, and who I am isn’t palatable for some guys. Who cares? Sure, I’m embarrassed by the situation, but at the end of the day, life goes on. I’d say that in a few months, I’ll be laughing about this, but I’m already laughing at it a week later. The situation was absolutely hilarious; you just had to be there.
So, next time you get rejected — whether it’s the first time or the hundred-first time — remember that it’s their loss. And either way, you don’t want someone who doesn’t want you.
Virginia Snatch is a student at Cornell University. Comments can be sent to [email protected]. The Slip ‘N Slide runs during alternate Sex on Thursdays this semester.