I have scheduled this post to be published early in the morning….but I will only have chance to read any comments this evening. But I have a big scary day today – INTERVIEW (AAAAAAAGHH!) – and so I am wondering if I may kindly ask you a favour.
What would you say to someone who faces a disappointment?
A failure?
A rejection?
I don’t know for certain that will be the outcome….however, I am sure there is a lot of interest for this role, and I am also sure there will be other candidates with more qualifications than I. So frankly, I would be pleasantly astonished if I was selected!
I have a feeling that by Monday evening, after the interview is over, I will feel a little downhearted, so I am hoping so much you may have been able to share a few words that you would impart to someone to cheer them up after a disappointment. I would be so grateful…xx
I will make sure Monday evening is a chill out time – I know there will be a sense of relief to have the interview out of the way.
I have some wonderful close friends who have been very supportive. They are aware of the challenges I faced. They know what happened to me in the park that night. They have helped me enormously to settle back into London. I have received all sorts of advice – some of it helpful, some if it not so helpful. But there have been others who have treated me coldly when I have crossed paths with them at events. Should I need to explain to them what happened to me to elicit warmth and kindness from them? Not really. I believe humans ought to treat others with respect, dignity and fellow-feeling.
I had a lot of challenges around men. Men made me nervous. I also felt myself becoming easily provoked, threatened and angry because of the looks, words or conduct of men. I had a few very intimidating situations where I felt threatened by strangers. I couldn’t tell if I was being over-sensitive. One I wrote about in this post: 
Then twenty-eight months after I was attacked…I met Goldfinch. I know I have written a lot about him. I have some wonderful comments from other bloggers who have read my posts…and a few kind of acrid comments which I just chose to ignore. The thing is, no matter what anybody else thinks, Goldfinch will always be sacred to me. I went from being terrified of men, to feeling there was no better place on earth than being safe in his arms. He has been wonderful for me. He has helped me heal in ways you cannot imagine. The excitement, the joy, the desire…he has been like a rescuer. He is somebody I never want to lose. After all of his loving kindness to me – he is going to remain close to my heart always!
During the last three years, gradually lots of things have healed. I can’t pinpoint exactly when, probably it was just a slow accumulation – but I lost that sense of just mechanically going through the motions. Life was no longer just breathe, sleep, wake up, get out of bed, shower, dress, coffee, breakfast, do something, do anything, just do something. Gradually life has become more and more and more satisfying and special – like it always was before. I have become busier and busier – but it’s been good busy. My enthusiasm levels, my energy levels, my appetite for life have all increased.
I am so grateful to my family, my close friends, and to gorgeous Goldfinch. I am grateful to the friendly bloggers who I have interacted with during the eighteen months I have been blogging – blogging has been very helpful to me, to help me keep my mind focused on who I really am. It is helpful to think over things and express myself without worrying that after pouring my heart out I am going to receive some kind of dodgy counselling. I can decide when I want to think and write about something difficult. I can do so at my own pace. There is a reason they say writing is cathartic/therapeutic.
I am grateful for the new friends I have made at work who were great company and with whom I have enjoyed “surface relationships” with – I needed some light-hearted, easy-going chit chat about nothing especially important, but just to be able to make each other laugh (my new friends have not known about my high-profile life where I travelled extensively and worked with thousands of people, nor of the challenges I faced). I don’t need to tell everyone about those challenges. In fact, I have noticed that as soon as people know there has been a traumatic event in your life, they either seem fascinated or start dishing out the most bizarre advice, when they do not know all the facts. So these new friends are better off being just for laughs.
During the last three years, I have gone from surviving each day…to thriving each day. Recently I received some feedback when I was working on a project. My supervisors don’t know anything about the challenges I have faced in the past. But they said I am gregarious and have an infectious joy for life and enthusiasm for every task I undertake. They say I make other people feel better and make the working environment a pleasure for everyone. It’s really really encouraging to be given that kind of appraisal of your personality. It means so much, because I had to fight to keep myself from sinking into dark places emotionally.
It’s really hard for me to give you a list of tips based on my own experiences, and to say they will work for you. I don’t believe there is an exact “recipe for recovery” you can follow and expect the same results as someone else. My life is not the same as yours. For a long time, you might be very raw, very fearful of more REJECTION or any other challenges. I found a lot of the cliches I heard when I was at my lowest infuriating. That woman who kept on saying my life is like a book, and as one chapter was ending another was beginning…I wanted to tell her to burn her stinking book! I was so provoked by being told clouds had silver linings, and everything happens for a reason. Those little cliched one-liners – when you are having a good day, they make so much sense. On a bad day, they can be be very irritating and seem to belittle you.
Some things kind of helped. The advice to “just take one day at a time” took the pressure off me. But it didn’t seem to help me make steps in the direction I actually wanted to go in. Just because I could get from sunrise to sunset without breaking down in tears – that was not such a major victory to me, even if they thought it was. I read an article I loved at one stage. It was all about the miracle of crying. It still feels good to let myself have a little cry at times. It’s not often nowadays, but when I was writing these posts, I found emotion built up in me. I cried. And it felt really good.
Some people may try to say things along the lines of “just keep smiling”, or “stay positive”. Very well-meaning advice. But I feel that if you have had a traumatic, distressing, overwhelming experience in your life – you are allowed to have your moody moments. It is alright to cry! Oh my goodness, don’t repress than pain. Overcoming challenges doesn’t mean you have to be always jumping for joy and breaking out into song. It is alright to say to a friend, “look, I don’t want to be a negative person or for people to think I am a moaner, a grumbler, an everlasting sob-story…but today, I need to say that I feel like crying and trying karate on every man who looks at me.” You might have to pick the right person, who will let you have your occasional grumble, or you might have to set up a WordPress account where you can let your grumbles out.
It is good for you to consider the challenges others have been through (when you are ready). Sometimes, it’s easy to become locked into your own trials. Nobody else has quite walked in your shoes, down your path. But being aware that others have had very stressful situations that threatened their emotional health and robbed them of joy, hearing how they have gradually healed and become better able to deal with the damage done to them – it might not help you the day you hear it (or read about it), but it might help you in the future. When you hear or read about how others have faced REJECTION – it can be helpful to realize “it’s not just me.”
A phrase I heard when I was a little girl, long before it ever really meant anything is “DON’T LET CHALLENGES MAKE YOU BITTER, LET THEM MAKE YOU BETTER.” Much as I am not a fan of cliches, I consciously decided that I did not want to lose “me”, because of the difficulties I faced. I have always been a happy, joyful, kind and loving person – like my parents. Why should I lose that? Nor did I believe in the shame and blame game.
The situation I faced was not fair, and it wasn’t right. But I was not going to let it cause me to become a people-hater, or a mistruster. I love people! People are wonderful! Life would be miserable without other people to enrich it, to eat and laugh and dance and sometimes cry with. Especially the kind of people I was working with. But you know what – they are imperfect. Just like me. They go through trials. All sorts of trials.
The situation I faced made me reluctant to ever use a smartphone again. I have REJECTED smartphones and social media. But I don’t miss out. I have had a basic old-fashioned phone that does not connect to the internet. I have tried to avoid giving out my landline number or the basic mobile phone I carry for emergencies mainly. I don’t have any desire to use Whatsapp, Instagram or any other ways to keep connected with the thousands of people who used to be in contact with me. I have a smaller circle of people I keep regular contact with nowadays. But I have a very big heart. That has not changed at all.
We have to have a certain amount of resilience in the face of REJECTION. It’s not always personal. All those REJECTED job applications – they didn’t know me. They had no idea what I had been through and that every REJECTION was a potential knock to my crumbly confidence.
Not everyone has to be our best friend. Some people might really warm to us, others not so much. We don’t all have the same sense of style, interests, beliefs or sense of humour. But that’s no reason to go round viewing people as enemies, accusing them of discrimination. In fact, if I thought people thought I was unlikable, well, it would just make me want to be even nicer to everyone I came into contact with. If people are just outrightly unpleasant, I still take pleasure in being a nice person, who bears no ill-feeling or malice.
The situation I went through left me shattered, lost, fearful and hurt. But I had something precious – peace of mind and a clean conscience. The threat to my peace was the belief that Jack (who I thought the world of) hated me and would be forever hostile to me. We used to be great friends. Then it all went terribly wrong. I could not make sense of any of it. I knew that I had warm feelings toward him. I also knew that I had REJECTED opportunities to take a swipe at him and damage his reputation. But at the same time I was trying to recover from physical injuries, emotional trauma, despair…I was always aware of a profound sense of estrangement with someone I admired, adored and felt affinity with.
But there did not seem to be anything I could do about it. I just had to keep breathing – even when I wanted to close my eyes and never wake up again. I had to keep living and hope that my life would go on becoming better and more meaningful. Life is enriched by the wonderful people you interact with. But when you have been damaged, people can unwittingly become very hazardous. When you have been hurt, everything is raw. People may have no idea that their conversation, attitude or behavior could be pushing you to the point of crying/walking out/wanting to go and find a bridge to jump off.
I am not the first person nor the last to gain strength and comfort from the scriptures, which helped me to make sense of what I had been through.
I sometimes read what people say about others who have caused them challenges. They refer to former friends (or family members) as “toxic”. I have many workmates and acquaintances who label half of the people they know as “narcissists”. I just have to take their word for it, because I don’t personally know the people they are talking about. Everyone is different. I don’t feel comfortable labeling other people like that. In my view, most people are damaged in some way, ways I may not ever understand. I have enormous empathy for the challenges every human faces to be the best person they can. There is a either a wide gulf or a knife edge between wickedness and weakness, depending on the judge! I ask myself…what kind of judge am I? How do I want others to judge me?
I have never agreed with the idea “this is who I am, I can’t change me”. I have been WORKING ON ME since I was a little girl. Always trying to be someone who makes my parents glad they invested so much love in me. I want to be a ray of sunshine to others. I want to be kind and sweet. I want to be helpful and patient. I want to be eloquent and respectful. I want to be upbuilding, forgiving, empathetic. It makes me feel much much happier as a person.
I didn’t want what had happened to sour my view of people. So there is a lot I have willingly chosen to look over. I have let go of anger towards any individuals. The memory of the situation I faced is upsetting, but I don’t want to feel I have enemies. I knew resentment would damage me more than anyone else. I am not someone who wants revenge. Of course I wish there was a way for all of the damage to be undone, all the horrible things that were said about me. It still causes me some anxiety that the people I admire think awful things of me. But I realized I would need to be patient.
I realized some time ago, that if it was the purpose of a small number of individuals to make me unhappy or feel worthless (and a whole load of others had just got carried away with what they thought was funny), well, it turns out that I came off the winner. Because I am very happy and very proud of the woman I am. I love that I am soft, sweet, mild and a joy to be around. I am very secure in the fact that people said things that were a million miles away from the truth about me. Of course it’s upsetting that some people thought that some of what was said was true. But all I can do is go on living the kind of life I have always led, go on being the person I have always wanted to be – but be even better than before. The knowledge I have of myself affects me more than the lack of knowledge others have of me.
I choose to be a lovely person. Nobody is going to take that away from me. If after the mistreatment of others, I had lost the qualities I prize and aspire to, I would consider that a huge loss. I don’t want to be less kind, less sweet, less forgiving. I feel good about who I am, the inner me, with a peaceful joyful heart. I have become wiser to those characters who think cruelty is a sport. But at the end of the day…people who are deliberately nasty – they will suffer the most. Who is it that will inherit the earth? The meek, the peacemakers, those who love what is good, love kindness and wait for the One who can see all things perfectly.
Out of the blue – something extraordinary happened recently. It has felt very much like a miracle. If you have reading my posts, you will know that a couple of months ago, Jack phoned me. After over four years of silence, he made contact. Initially he was very sweet. He said some nice things about me and the work I had done. He knew of a project I have been working on recently and the things that were said about my attitude to work and the spirit I bring to projects. He reminisced over past projects we worked on. Then he began to talk about his regret over the past. It’s kind of personal what we said to each other at that point. There were a few moments in that phone call, when I wanted to hang up on him to be honest. The more I listened, the more I could empathise with him. I might possibly write more in the future about what Jack said he thought was happening back then.
I kept my focus on what I had always hoped (but doubted) Jack and I could recover – peace. JUST PEACE. (I would love to have peace with those people who said things about me that were untrue and damaging – but most of them I never knew.) I realized this was the opportunity I had been waiting for and I ought not be too sensitive. He also wanted peace. He expressed great concern for what I had been through.
Not everything was resolved in that telephone conversation. But he called again, and during the second conversation we had, he said he would like to sit down and talk things over. I will admit, I was reluctant. It seemed overwhelming to be in the same room as someone I was fearful of. (Not fearful for my physical safety, but his ability to effect my emotions profoundly.) It was my idea to have a walk somewhere, rather than being entrapped in a room. Plus I didn’t want to be seen by people who knew us – we couldn’t meet near either of our homes, nor anywhere too public because he is so often recognised. So we went for a walk in a huge London park which has a lot of woodland. Somehow…after talking for some time face to face, he felt inclined to reach for my hand.
It’s hard for me to think too far ahead. I am very happy. Very relieved. Peace is on full-flow in my heart right now. Yet…I am still vulnerable. What will happen when we tell our family and friends? (Some of whom told me Jack was “toxic” or “a narcissist” and said that I should cut him out of my life?) What will happen when we go public and those same fans of Jacks, who trolled me years ago find out that we are now together as a couple? Frankly…I am terrified! I am so scared that it still has the potential to affect my happiness. Jack and I have discussed this frequently. We have both agreed to just focus on WORKING ON US, before we share our relationship with those we love.
I am no supermodel! But I am content with myself. I don’t sulk over what I cannot change without drastic plastic surgery. I don’t want to see photos of myself (when I am with Jack) on social media and for people to say they think I am ugly, fat or miserable looking. I am going to have to ask my friends not to draw it to my attention if that’s what happens. Because there is a limit to what Jack can do. We live in a climate where sadly, some people will make very unkind comments about people they do not know. They don’t know the challenges I have faced and how much I suffered due to how overwhelmed I was in the past.
But this time…I won’t be on my own. Jack has pledged to be supportive. I hope my family and friends will be mindful of the challenges that being with Jack may bring. Yes I am happy because I am finally able to love the man I always did love. But “celebrity” has a very ugly side to it. Yet because I love Jack, I am making the choice to be prepared for the possibility of REJECTION by people who follow Jack’s life and work.
However, I will always be mindful that there are people walking round who are damaged. Their emotions might be so raw, they might have a huge internal battle because of the hurt inflicted on them. So if they say something that feels like REJECTION, I am not going to be oversensitive. Everyone has challenges! And when you are in the grip of challenges, you might say and do things that would normally be unthinkable to you. Like the vicious dog, who has been neglected, badly mistreated and abused by it’s owner, they may just be still traumatised by what they have been through. I have OVERCOME REJECTION, as far as in I have not let it change the wonderful person my parents worked so hard to shape and I am delighted with. I am still me! Wonderful me! Despite REJECTION from others who did not see the person I was trying to be.
Healing is wonderful…and it is most effective with a lot of love, patience, kindness and mildness. After what I have experienced myself, I am more determined than ever to be loving, kind and forgiving. Nobody is going to rob me of my joy in life that comes from loving others as I would like them to love me.
We all face challenges in life. We learn, we grow, we are better for it, we share our experience to help and inspire others. Most of those challenges are just a little bigger than other challenges we have faced before. But sometimes we face challenges so enormous they knock us flat. They may seem to change the course of our life and who we are as a person.
Jack and I were still living in the same block of apartments (but in different apartments). He and I were estranged. Looks, glares, grimaces were all we exchanged. When I looked at him, I just felt pain. I was convinced he hated me and had caused others to shun me. One night I was out with friends, and I did not want to go home. I had seen Jack four times that day already, including just before I left the flat to meet my friends.
I choose not to write about the details of what happened that night, but it was bad! No woman (or a man of course) should ever be terrified in that way. It’s a horrendous violation of you as a person. Awful awful awful. I still remember the blows to my head that came before my next memory. Waking up in an ambulance the next day. That first day in hospital was horrible. So many people asking me questions about what had happened. All I wanted to do was sleep and cry and sleep. But I didn’t feel as if they would let me. Questions questions questions.
I hate to remember the messages I was receiving on my phone. People did not know what had happened to me of course. They would never have sent those horrible messages if they knew, I am sure of that. I ended up turning my phone off.
One woman kept on saying to me, “life is like a book, you finish one chapter and start a new one”. She wanted me to make new goals, go to university, get married, have children, become a rocket scientist – it didn’t matter what – she just wanted me to accept that a part of my life had ended and I had a lot to look forward to. There was another woman who kept on telling me every cloud has a silver lining, that everything happens for a reason, and that I should view what had happened as an opportunity for something exciting.
There was a counsellor who seemed obsessed with “karma”. Am I allowed to confess that I had an unusual desire to throw my lemonade all over her? Would that have been karma paying her back for talking so much nonsense? Then there was the guy who just kept on going on about cavemen. What ever I said, his response was, “well, when you think about cavemen…”, which frankly was baffling. I REJECTED all this shallow meaningless advice which was not helpful to me at all.
The last counsellor who ever came to my sister’s home really provoked me. He came very late. His first words were that the morning had been hectic for him, meaning he had not had chance to read my notes. But I couldn’t help but notice that he had clearly found the time to have at least one cigarette. He reeked of tobacco. He walked in with muddy boots on. My sister had cream carpets. I asked him to remove his shoes (it’s a house rule – everyone else did it automatically). He said to me “I prefer to keep them on, if you don’t mind.” He walked into the cream carpeted living room (leaving a trail of mud, and commented that the pale colour of the carpets was impractical) and sat down on the sofa, asking if I could put the cat out because he was allergic to cats. Then he told me “tea with milk and two sugars”.
After fetching a drink for him, I sat down on the other sofa. After taking a huge gulp (I also had to point out to him the coasters, as he had placed the china mug straight onto the wooden table beside him), he asked me, “On a scale of one to ten how much do you want to kill yourself?” My instant response was something along the lines of, “You come into this house stinking of tobacco and you ask me a question like that? You are the one who clearly have no respect for the precious gift of life.” After I evicted him from my sister’s home, I rang the counselling services administrator and asked them not to send anyone else ever again. I was fuming. Mate! You should have read my case notes. I REJECTED services which had the potential to be very helpful to me. A good counsellor is a treasure. A bad counsellor has the potential to frighten you away from supportive services.
That year was tough. I had my family, which is great really. I can’t bear the thought of some people facing huge trials without a supportive family. Nonetheless, it was a year of frustration for many reasons. I was moving around to stay with different family members, because I didn’t want to become a burden to anyone. After three months, I felt bad that my family were supporting me. I went to the local Job Center and explained I would like to find a part-time job, maybe just a few hours a week, to be able to contribute something to my family.
I had some further complications after my head injuries. I was in and out of hospital repeatedly. My brain kept on forgetting the importance of breathing. I had repeated blackouts and falls. When I was out of hospital, I was also using the internet to try to find work. Most of the part time jobs I applied for online, I never heard back from. My applications were ignored or REJECTED. It was disheartening.
I went in to what turned out to be a group interview. The guy made the place sound like a farm – with us as the animals. No, that is not really fair. I am sure farmers would treat their animals better. Amongst other things, he said that toilet breaks are not allowed during your shift. I sat there mortified at what I was hearing. I raised my hand and asked something along the lines of “if toilet breaks are not allowed – are we just to stand there and wet ourselves? Is there a clean-up team who might assist in cases of bladder weakness and the resultant yellow puddles beneath our feet?” At the end of the interview, he told me that it was obvious I was a princess and that this place was not for me. In this case it was a REJECTION I was relieved about!
When I was eventually appointed an advisor to help me find work (which was roughly eight months after I was attacked), the guy did not seem to comprehend the term “part-time”. I explained I had not worked for eight months, and that before that I had been the victim of a crime. He just kept saying work would be good for me. I kept on insisting I needed to build up. I didn’t want to end up in a job that left me completely exhausted. I just wanted to contribute to the household expenses for my family. He wanted to help me draw up a CV/resume. I already had a stunning CV. I showed him my CV, my references and explained the long list of skills I had. He said there was nothing he could do to to help me. His role was usually helping people write down lists of usable work experience and put together a CV – tasks I was perfectly capable of myself. I had already applied for around three hundred jobs throughout the North West of England by that point. The lack response was demoralising. He referred me to another agency.
Well…that turned out to be another challenge. I wrote a series of posts about the difficulties I had there. Amongst which were my boss exposing himself to me, repeatedly making inappropriate physical contact with me, making suggestive comments, name-calling, body shaming…I gave my noticed in after two weeks. I have never wanted to REJECT what someone was offering me more in my life!!!
I kept on applying for work and trying to find accommodation in London. Amazingly, I was recommended to my current landlords. Here I am three years later in a beautiful home, in a very expensive part of London. I feel safe. Two huge gates hide my front door from the rest of the world. I work part-time for money and the rest of the time I have been able to slowly increase the time I spend as an unpaid volunteer working for charities. My physical circumstances have improved. The number of times I have had to go to hospital due to breathing difficulties and bruising all over my face has decreased.
I have been fearful though. The REJECTION I faced from Jack and my peers had a huge effect on the inner me. The effect on my emotions and feelings was immense. I was in danger of losing “me”. I was fearful of what people thought of me, what they were saying about me. It did not take me long to realize that most people thought I had left London in shame. They thought I really had been having an affair with a married man. People have seen me and not been very nice to me. I have been in the same room as Jack and literally fled in fear because I couldn’t face seeing him.
I didn’t realize how much I had to say on the subject of REJECTION! This post finally outlines the challenges that had the most damaging effect on me. I first met Jack around eight years ago. It was some time after I met him that a situation began to develop around him and I. I had never had a challenge of that scale, not one that affected me in such a personal way.
Yesterday I published my introduction to a multiple part response that I am submitting to Beckie. This post is going to examine in more detail the challenges I faced which developed into my one and only taste of despair. They all center around that word: REJECTION.
From my late teens, I was courted by a wonderful young man named Jammy. (His real name was James, everyone called him Jamey…but as a child he pronounced that as “Jammy”. So Jammy stuck.)
I had lots of male friends (hey, I had been working on construction sites for years). I went on dates, but I knew there was noone I wanted to have a romance with. I received two marriage proposals, both of which I REJECTED. But I explained my reasons kindly. One of those men took it well, the other didn’t. He left the country! He decided to move to the Arctic Circle. I wrote a post about Pete actually:
Anyway…Jack was already an international volunteer, but he was assigned to be based in London six months after I was. He caused quite a stir. A celebrity who was going to be boarding with the rest of us in basic accommodation. He is amazingly charismatic. Volunteers are already a friendly, energetic bunch, but Jack managed to bring even more life and spirit to every project he was involved in. I was aware of his presence, but I was yet to meet him. then came the day he sat opposite me when I was out with friends for brunch. I realized he was looking at me.
After that we were on friendly terms. We were at a lot of social events together. We both loved karaoke. It all started with a bit of teasing. I just tried to dampen down what people were saying. I REJECTED the tittle tattle as nonsense. My closest friends (who had been spending a lot of time with Jack) claimed he liked me. I know I know…it sounds like school doesn’t it! But this was how it started. Before I knew it…it went viral. I think that’s what is is called. Suddenly I was walking along a road and strangers were approaching me to take photos and ask me if I was shagging Jack. In the end I wrote down hundreds of comments made to me and questions I was asked.
There were a few things that Jack may not have realized were adding to my stress. He kept turning up at the infirmary where I worked, to cheer up our patients. He would come waltzing in with those smouldering eyes and that gorgeous smile of his. He would sing to our patients and take selfies with everyone. And they loved him! So he kept coming back.
News was spreading in ways I never understood. I received calls and e-mails from friends in other countries asking if I was dating Jack. A few people said they had heard we were engaged to be married. Jack and I were friendly at this point, but nothing was going on. Then he moved into the flat I was living in. The rumours multiplied. Look, I have a great sense of humour. I could see the funny side of some of them, even though they were not really appropriate. I spoke to the young man who was telling everyone that Jack had been drilling a hole in his bedroom wall so he could watch me undressing.
There was other teasing that came from our close friends and colleagues. Jack was sometimes a bit untidy. Ella refused to clear up after him. But I cleared up after anyone I had lived with. I love cleaning. Well…jokes developed along the lines that I was making myself the next Mrs Jack Barnes.
Our close friends were teasing that I was washing his dishes and picking up his clothes and throwing away his moldy food etc because I was in love with him. He retaliated by telling everyone I had OCD and was obsessed with cleaning. He didn’t realize that my new manager and his new assistant took those rumours literally and decided I was a control freak, which is why they thought I wouldn’t cooperate with the changes they were making. Actually I did cooperate. But I asked them to listen to the girls on our team who were crying because they couldn’t cope with the new rota and the harshness from them.
People became more bold about what they said directly to Jack and I. They were “friends”. They would say things with a grin, so it had to be a joke right. They would say things like, “What you two need is just to have a really good snog (or a shag) and then you won’t feel awkward with each other anymore.” Or they would suggest that we surprise each other by walking into each other’s bedroom and pouncing. Or they would say, “You look happy this morning, have you two been shagging again?” None of this was happening. Jack and me were not speaking to each other. We were scared to look at each other.
It’s hard to convey the sheer amount of incidents of online cruelty that were accumulating. They started to affect me. I became convinced that Jack disliked me. He wasn’t speaking to me. People were saying online I was this ugly fat wannabe who was harassing Jack and throwing myself at him. Then something kind of strange happened. It all centers around one week in our flat. In fact the events of that week inspired a whole series of posts (which are badly written I know, I was just so emotional when I was writing those posts). If you have a few hours spare, you can read the entire saga that developed:
That’s not the end of it though. As I mentioned in those posts, after I moved out of the flat, the rumours were that after our passionate affair, we had argued, I had tried to attack Jack with a knife and we now hated each other. It all became more and more ridiculous. Our close friends knew there was a rift between us. I kept on turning up to the homes of friends who had invited me for dinner and there was Jack. Our friends wanted us to be friends. But it was so awkward.
I just threw myself into work and took on extra assignments. In my spare time I started doing more and more sport, That is supposed to be good for you, endorphins and everything. I lost a quite a lot of weight. I was avoiding the main dining room were meals were served. So I was hiding in the changing rooms or somewhere outside eating a rice-cake and hummus day after day. I am five foot eight and was looking extremely lean at this point.
I was still being invited to lots of parties and social gatherings, but not by those I admired and respected any longer. I was being invited by a more wild kind of crowd. I remember going to a club with some people I hardly knew and dancing for hours. I was full of adrenaline, my emotions turbulent. My friends said I was getting a reputation for being a party girl. Rumours online about me twerking (whatever that is!) and flirting with men were upsetting my friends, and apparently, the rumours about me were getting back to Jack.
Work was still challenging. There was so much negativity. Everyone was complaining about our new manager and his assistant. There was not a nice atmosphere. I just concentrated on our patients and gave my most tender care. I also helped a neighbour who had experienced a severe stroke at the age of thirty. Her sight, cognitive abilities and physical mobility were very limited. She and I developed our own little language – literally. She was the highlight of my week. The time I spent with her was so special to me.
Jack a presenter at a charity entertainment evening. I don’t know what he was thinking. He made several jokes that were about me. I was right there in the audience that night. He didn’t name me of course. More calls, texts, e-mails. I remember two men chasing me down the road shouting out at me indicating they knew the jokes were about me.
I remember after some incredibly impertinent questions from someone I looked up to in front of others who I admired accusing me of trying to climb the ladder by catching an interesting husband…I just broke into tears. Amazingly Suzie and Marta just happened to arrive at the right time. They were horrified at what I was experiencing in connection with a man who was like a brother to us after we had supported him through the biggest trial of his life. I wrote about this dear friend of ours and his amazing wife in this post:
The running club I went to – it was very popular. Some weeks fifty people turned up. But when it was raining, there would only be handful of us. I remember Jack driving past me when I was running in the rain. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but there was a man running alongside me, a regular at the club. Shortly afterwards, rumours began that I was having a relationship with this married man. His wife worked with me. She was understandably very upset.
The truth is, I didn’t have a relationship with any man after I ended the courtship with Jammy. Because of Jack, nobody I was friendly with could show interest in me without a lot of gossip and possibly losing Jack’s friendship. Who would want to be REJECTED by Jack – one of the most popular volunteers across the country? Maybe nobody was interested in me. Afterall, social media had labelled me an ugly fat slut. Why would anyone want to date me? I was lonely. My friends had evaporated. My close friends all loved Jack. I couldn’t tell my family what was going on. I was talking to them regularly, but I told them everything was great. I wanted them to think I was happy in this wonderful life I had sacrificed everything to attain.
I felt REJECTED. By Jack, by my friends, by my manager and his assistant, by a faceless mass of strangers who thought they could say anything they wanted about me. What hurt was that the people I had looked up to, admired and imitated…they seemed to be shunning me because of what they were hearing about me. They were very pally with Jack. But I was facing REJECTION from those who I desperately wanted to accept me.
What I had experienced had eroded the inside of me. I was no longer myself. My energy, my appetite, my sleep were all affected. Increasingly I wanted to be alone. I REJECTED many invitations. When I did spend time with my friends, I was still smiling and laughing, but inside I was cracking up.
Have you ever faced REJECTION from those you looked up to and admired? How did you overcome the feelings that stirred in you?
When I was sixteen, I stepped onto a construction site as a volunteer for the first time. That day changed my life. I REJECTED the opportunities my teachers were waving in front of me. I rejected the goals that the academic side of my family kept pushing. I rejected the world’s idea of success. From that moment on, my chosen career was working as an unpaid volunteer for charities.
While I was volunteering I met hundreds of other amazing volunteers, including those who were full-time international volunteers. They travelled the world, being sent to areas of need. Some of them had been in that role for decades. They had not been paid any wages for all those years. All they had was basic accommodation. Meals were provided for them and their travel was paid for. They had the biggest smiles I had ever seen. They radiated joy.
Our manager left during the most intense period we faced. We had a new manager. One who had never worked in healthcare, but he was a good organizer. Our former manager was a people person. He was always supportive and looked after each volunteer making sure there was a warm family like spirit. Our new manager kept away from the wards. He was in an office doing paperwork all of the time. One of our new manager’s first decisions was to get himself an assistant. The assistant was a young man I had trained (yes, one of those who didn’t turn up when we needed him most).
This new assistant couldn’t his head round the rota and how to use spreadsheets. I was asked to show him, but eventually he decided to come up with a simpler arrangement. You just did a whole week of your shift and weekends could be covered by part-time volunteers. That meant that if you were on night shifts, you had to do five week day nights, 50 hours and then were back on Monday on early shifts 5:30am – 2.30pm. If you were on night shifts, most of your time you were trying to assist Alzheimer’s patients who were normally most active at night.
Incidentally, by this point Jack had moved into the flat I lived in. Sometimes he would catch me crying with our flatmate Ella. He was living with me during the most stressful period of my career. I wish he hadn’t seen me when I was so tired and so stressed. He probably just thought I was over-emotional. I should ask him if he remembers seeing me crying with Ella.
I was working between 40-60 hours a week and had a supervisor who thought our entire team were just out to “get him”. He seemed to want to push and push and push, asking us to do all sorts of strange tasks. He seemed to just want us to say “Yes sir!” I had never known another supervisor amongst all the volunteers I worked in who could make life so miserable. He seemed to REJECT our whole team. After all of our devotion to our patients, our new manager and his assistant seemed to despise us and have no empathy to the challenges we faced. Remember, none of us were being paid any wages!
However…this is not the challenge that broke me. This was just the background to a situation which was initially part of my personal life that became a nightmare to me. Some of my friends later said that all of us girls who had worked overtime for years were showing symptoms of burn-out. Apparently, everyone thought I was the strongest (emotionally) out of the team and seemed carry on working when others said they couldn’t cope anymore. I didn’t complain you see. It’s never been my way. Maybe that caused problems for me.
A situation developed within a work setting: There was a male colleague. I don’t want to be unkind, but to say we were like “chalk and cheese” is a very kind way of expressing how little attraction there was on my part for him. Not just NO, more NEVER EVER in my mind.
You know I can’t bear to be unkind about people. It would be unkind if I related details. But it was awful from start to finish. You can use you imagination if you like, but I don’t want him to be the target of any kind of ridicule. There is a part of me that would love to give you a description of him so that you can understand how very much polar opposite he was from me in so many ways…but I am afraid to be unkind. A lot of his animated conversation included his enthusiasm about how much alcohol he had managed to imbibe at the weekend, and then graphically detailed descriptions of the effect that had on him.
In some areas, we had different habits of speech. At times, he had been using language in a manner that I perceived as vulgar (I know that for some people they have been surrounded by “swearing” in their family life and other aspects of life, but I haven’t, I have been raised like a princess) so there were occasions when I actually walked away from him to escape his presence, because the use of his language made me feel like someone was punching me. I know he would not have realized that. I hinted at times that his language was colourful. It didn’t seem to affect his speech. He was not the only member of the team that threw around words that some like me would find offensive even if we know it might be due to an ingrained habit and not a deliberate intention to cause a reaction.
I hoped that the reasons he had for choosing to do so were casual and my choice to decline (which I had the right to make) would not cause any significant disappointment. I didn’t want to add any reason to my saying no. Maybe I didn’t give the perfect reply but I wanted to be kind yet firm. So, I said something along the lines of “thank you for asking me but I would prefer not to.” Some people may have said “I am busy” but that could have led to “what about next week?” to which I would have still had to say what I had said. On the spot, I chose not to confuse matters with anything other than my choice which as I said was in essence “thank you but no”.
people, they find it easy to ask casually and accept the answer one way or the other. It is natural to have a desire to be close to someone of the opposite sex, to have someone special, or to just not like living alone – all natural and healthy feelings in themselves. If someone feels very strongly and maybe they feel frustrated that the fulfilment of those desires seems elusive, maybe they have experienced some pain. Maybe there was something about my physical appearance, personality or reputation that appealed to him. He never told me if that was the case and I am glad because if he had expressed any such opinions it still would not have changed my answer. All I know is that whatever had gone on in his mind (which I will never know) his behaviour changed significantly. I can’t bear to feel I have caused hurt to someone. I could see he may have had enough disappointment or embarrassment to affect his behaviour.
Lessons learned: Always act like a princess.
You have very likely seen the fascinating series hosted by Beckie, the creator of 
I am not so naive as to think I will never face painful challenges ever again. Having experienced painful rejection in the past, I am not going to set myself up for a crash that could to a crises. I am more aware of my weak points now, I know where I am vulnerable. I am going to be prepared for future disappointments, specifically when it comes to facing REJECTION. When life throws that particular curveball at me, I plan to be more prepared for it.
In fact…when I first began writing posts on CRUSHED CARAMEL, I realized that this could be an avenue to talk about challenges in a way that I was fearful to burden anyone else with. I didn’t want to weigh down my friends and family. But somehow, an audience of complete strangers (often made up of those who have often had challenges to overcome themselves and write about what helped them to do so) seemed a safer and easier way to express what happened.
Learning strategies to be prepared for a tsunami of painful, perhaps traumatic, memories that threaten to swallow you up, is so important. I have had to find ways to keep my head above water at times.
I will publish this part now…and the other two parts will come as soon as I have time to work on them! Jack will be here soon. Yes…Jack! Isn’t it wonderful! I have stuffed peppers in the oven and some salad all made up. There is nothing naughty in my cupboards at the moment, so I have told him if he wants something naughty he can bring a pudding or some wine…or he has to be content with me!
Caramel 