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This is how experts advise you overcome feelings of rejection

One adjective that’s haunted me my entire life is sensitive. While it’s sometimes a compliment, more often than not it’s a comment on how I handle rejection, exclusion, and any perceived failure.

Growing up, I was that kid who ruminated over not getting invited to birthday parties. I turned into that teen who cried in the girls’ bathroom after not being cast in the school musical. And, naturally, I turned into the kind of adult who had a difficult time moving on from an ‘I’m not ready to be in a relationship’ text or a ‘We went with another candidate for this role’ email.

If any of these examples give you visceral flashbacks to your own humiliating moments of rejection, there’s a reason these memories sting. Turns out, even thinking about instances of social rejection (seeing a photo of someone who broke your heart, for example) can activate the same part of your brain that responds to physical pain, according to one study. Feeling rejected literally hurts.

From an evolutionary perspective, rejection’s harsh impact makes sense: the desire to be accepted is a survival instinct. The individuals with the highest survival rates ‘were the ones who were most attuned to behaving in ways that prevented other people from rejecting them,’ says Mark Leary, PhD, a professor of psychology and neuroscience at Duke University.

Unfortunately, rejection – in all its shapes and forms – is an unavoidable part of modern life too. ‘People personalise it and think it’s about them, when rejection really is just part of everybody’s experience,’ says Gary Lewandowski, Jr., PhD, a professor of psychology at Monmouth University.

Meet the experts: Mark Leary, PhD, is a professor of psychology and neuroscience at Duke University. Gary Lewandowski, Jr., PhD, is a professor of psychology at Monmouth University. Leslie Becker-Phelps, PhD, is a psychologist and the author of Bouncing Back From Rejection.

And there’s no good way to make it hurt less when someone ghosts you after a promising second date or when you’re passed over for a promotion. Your response to rejection ‘is sort of like stepping on a sharp object with your bare feet,’ says Leary. It’s painful, but the pain is actually a sign that you’re an evolved human being who doesn’t want to get hurt.

That said, there are ways you can shift your mindset to not let yourself ruminate over rejection (after that one joke that didn’t land, or that one photo of your friends grabbing drinks without you).

Having coping tools in your arsenal can help your overall mood and mental health, too, says psychologist Leslie Becker-Phelps, PhD, author of Bouncing Back From Rejection: ‘You’ll feel more positively about yourself, and you’ll be more persevering and resilient.’ Ready to rethink rejection?

1. Spot the difference between being rejected and *feeling* rejected
Experiencing a familiar sense of shame and sadness after a new mom friend said she wasn’t free for a playdate with the kids this week? First, try to look at what happened—really look at it—and ask yourself if it’s possible that you’re just feeling sensitive.

‘Neutral reactions from other people are often perceived as rejection because the neutrality indicates this person doesn’t particularly value the relationship,’ says Leary. ‘Many of the times we feel rejected, technically we weren’t.’ In other words, anything other than enthusiasm can be perceived as a dismissal.

Play detective and ask yourself a few questions to get to the bottom of it: am I interpreting this situation properly? Is it possible this person was simply distracted or dealing with other things in their life? Maybe we communicate in different ways? Am I really getting turned down, or am I just not receiving the response I’d like?

2. Train your brain to see the positive side of every encounter
Rejection can be a self-fulfilling prophecy, says Lewandowski – if you’re looking for it, you’ll see small rejections everywhere, whether it’s your office pal offering unsolicited outfit advice or your partner taking several hours to respond to a text. On the flip side, if you look for signs that you’re valued and appreciated, you’ll likely start noticing those too. One example: ‘That same person who didn’t text you back quickly enough did text you back,’ Lewandowski points out.

Practice taking note of when you’re accepted and included, and eventually you’ll “train yourself” to be better at noticing the positives and giving them the same weight as those negative observations.

3. Spend time with people who make you feel loved and accepted
Sometimes, a situation might leave you feeling rejected—and you won’t even recognise it in the moment, says Becker-Phelps. Maybe you always have a great time with your workout buddies, but afterward, you notice you feel down on yourself. ‘Take a moment, step back, and ask, “Do I feel good about myself when I’m with these individuals?”‘ says Becker-Phelps.

If a person makes you feel less than, try talking it out—it’s possible they don’t realise how they’re impacting you. Beyond that, focus your energy on people who appreciate you. ‘Those who handle rejection well tend to have a stronger relationship network,’ Leary says. This is also part of the reason people can become less sensitive with age – friendships and community feel more stable as you grow older, which causes ‘outside’ rejections to hurt less.

4. Expand your world—and your identity
Three scenarios for you: You just received constructive criticism at work. You got dumped by someone you were dating. You devoted years to writing and editing a novel or memoir, but it took an agent or editor just minutes to say they didn’t love it. (Not to rejection-brag or anything, but I’ve experienced all three.) It feels as if the world just ended—maybe because that job, relationship, or creative project was your whole world.

Another example is ‘someone who’s all-in on being a med student,’ says Lewandowski. ‘Their identity is so wrapped up in [their career] that when they get a bad test grade, they’re devastated.’ For someone else who has a ton of relationships and other interests, though, that same grade might still sting… but not feel like a threat to their identity.

If any of this sounds relatable, make an effort to place more emphasis on other factors that matter to you—or even just recognise the different ways you define yourself, says Lewandowski. Then, when you experience a rejection, ‘you have plenty of other things going on’ and feel a little more balanced.

5. Think about, write down, and repeat what you love about yourself
You might’ve heard that positive affirmations can elevate your self-worth. But instead of just repeating that you’re a good, worthy person in the hope you’ll believe it someday, dig deeper and find words specific to you: What unique traits make you you?

‘You might notice that you perk up a little when you think about them,’ Becker-Phelps says. Repeat these affirmations daily; you’ll start to feel more resilient and confident.

In that spirit of self-love, I’ve come to realise my sensitivity isn’t a bad thing – it’s human, and it makes me a more empathetic and thoughtful person. And while I’m okay with being attuned to the pain of rejection, what I’m ready to change is how I react to it. Because, cheesy as it sounds, I now know that every rejection has led me somewhere better.

Story by Lydia Wang:Womens Health UK.

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The secrets of a healthy divorce: ditch blame, put kids first – and avoid lawyers as long as you can

‘My parents’ bitter divorce was a lesson for me’
My parents had the most acrimonious divorce of anyone I know. Years of rage culminated in a decision to live on opposite sides of the world. I never heard my parents speak well of each other. The unexpected silver lining of this experience was that, when my marriage of 15 years was coming to an end, I knew how not to do it.

Our children were 12 and 14 and we presented it to them in a way that we hoped they would understand: that we had really loved each other and were so glad we got married and had them, but that sometimes love can change to friendship. My parents never framed their divorce in a way that was age-appropriate for me, and so I was glad that I was able to give my children the story I had wished for.

The arrangements also reflect what I would have wanted as a child: as much stability as possible. The children live in the family home with me, and their father lives nearby so that they can see him regularly. We spend Christmases, birthdays and special family occasions together, but holiday separately and step in to “babysit” for each other when we need to. We get along and, most importantly, we speak well of each other. Always.

Emma Clark, 46, Reading

‘We held a closing ceremony’
My ex-partner and I were together for four years, three of which were polyamorous. We were new to that world, and we navigated it as best we could given our inexperience, dealing with neurodivergence, and bouts of depression and anxiety. We moved in together during the pandemic but it wasn’t the right thing for us. Between lockdowns, I met someone else and began dating them. My ex-partner and I had agreed that this was OK, but my feelings for this new person showed me that things needed to end with my ex.

It was very painful and very sad, and he had to move out of our flat. Before he did, we put aside one night to spend together as a sort of “closing ceremony”. We went to the beach and lit a fire, then came home, drank wine and repotted the spider plant babies that had been sprouting from our shared plant. We told each other all the things that we had loved about the relationship, all the ways in which we had grown thanks to the care of the other.

Afterwards, we prioritised our friendship. We continued to be open with each other about our thoughts, feelings and struggles, even when that was uncomfortable. We had good weeks and bad weeks, and there have been times along the way when my commitment to the friendship may have waned. But we stuck to it and three years on we are still very close, perhaps the closest we’ve ever been.

Stella, 31, Brighton

‘We withdrew emotionally from each other’
When my-ex husband and I split up, my daughter was two years old and we tried hard to do it in the best way we thought possible. Nine years later, as I meet other people affected by divorce, I’ve realised that our experience is unusual.

We put our daughter at the centre of our minds and did what was best for her. But we also withdrew completely from each other except for factual and practical discussions. It sounds cold, but that is what was needed at the time.

You can’t be the other’s emotional support during a break-up – that sends horrible mixed signals. You may want to make them feel better but they need to lean on others for that and learn to live without you. It is important to agree on boundaries for communication straight away, such as one email a day that sticks to facts. Write that angry letter to them but don’t send it. If you receive an angry letter, be magnanimous and delete it.

Kate, 44, Cheltenham

‘People change – they don’t become bad’
My ex-wife and I met in 2001 and separated in 2017, but we have remained friends and spend time together with and without our kids. Now, we both have new partners and all operate as an extended family. We “arranged” our divorce so that the decree absolute came through on our wedding anniversary, as it made us laugh. She was a witness at my wedding.

Related: Divorce doulas: ‘like having that best friend you’ve always wanted, but you’re paying for’

My advice? Don’t fall into the trap of believing that you can’t separate amicably. People change over time in a relationship and that may make you incompatible, but it doesn’t mean they are a bad person. Try to be proud of the person they have become, and the part you played in that. Wish them happiness and don’t begrudge them finding it.

Giles Batchelor, 41, Kettering

‘Stay away from lawyers as long as you can’
After 15 years, my wife and I split up. There was no fire left; we were living as roommates. She stayed in our house: I didn’t ask for money and ended up living in several friends’ homes for about 18 months before I was able to arrange a decent place to live. Ten years later, when I really needed it, she paid me what she owed. We still see each other a couple of times a year. I know she will be there when I need it; she knows that I will be there as well.

If you can’t agree on how to divide your belongings, try to get a friend you both trust to help out. If there are some things you are emotionally attached to, ask for those and let your partner have the rest. Stay away from lawyers as long as you can: most of them are just in it for the money. Of course, if nothing else can be done, fight like hell for the rights of your kids, then fight for your rights.

Theo Veltman, 67, Amsterdam

‘We showed our son we were still friends’
I split with my long-term partner when our son was four. Our main thought was that we didn’t hate each other. The break-up was nobody’s fault – we’d just grown apart. We felt what was most important was for our son to grow up seeing his parents being friends, making joint decisions on things that affected him, and even taking family holidays together every year while our son was young. Not only did we successfully raise our son, we gave him a road map of how adults can and should behave around children.

When my ex became unwell three years ago, I discovered I was still his next of kin. I visited him in hospital while he was in a coma. When he died, my current partner and his mum gave money to help me pay for his funeral, because they knew how much he meant to me.

Kal Bird, 51, Salford

‘We always ensured each other’s wellbeing’
Our divorce attorneys, both women, said we were the model couple for separating amicably. We had agreed to a financial deal prior to even meeting them, and so all it took was to sign the paperwork. But as a gay couple, we had to undo not only the marriage, but a civil union and two domestic partnerships from the various states we had lived in. This made things more complicated: queerphobia had harmed us all our lives, but we had no idea it would be a problem during our divorce, too. Both of us now have new partners and are happy. Our guiding force was simple: ensure the other’s wellbeing, financially and emotionally, at all times.

Anonymous, 61, New York

‘I didn’t want to hate the woman I once loved’
Related: ‘I think I was relieved’: life on the other side of mature age divorce

My wife and I separated 27 years ago. It was always going to happen and we had only stayed together for several years for the sake of the children and financial stability. After the break-up, I undertook constellation therapy [looking into family history], which enabled me to understand that it was important for our two children’s wellbeing that their parents still liked each other.

At first I had to grit my teeth to do it but I always sent birthday cards, a gift at Christmas and enquired how their mother was. By the time we were both settled with new partners, it seemed unreasonable to hate the woman I had once loved and who was the mother of my children.

Stephen Cooke, 72, Bordeaux, France

‘There was no blame apportioned’
I ended my marriage 11 years ago after finding out my husband had been cheating with men. It was the need to be tested for STIs that meant he had to tell me about his sexual activity: thankfully we were both clear. I also found out that he had put thousands of pounds of debt on my credit card.

I’m not sure how it remained amicable but we never shouted at each other or argued over material things. There was no blame apportioned. We kept in touch and I tried to be a friend while he went through counselling and sorted his life out. We don’t talk often but have bumped into each other – it was nice to see him.

I have learned a lot about myself in the process. I am proud that throughout the whole thing I didn’t put anything on social media about it.

Lou, 48, Cambridge

Story by Interviews by Sarah Phillips: The Guardian: