Reactions to Rejection

Retaliation / Violence

Seeing no hope of acceptance, I would turn completely around and develop a deep hatred for the one who rejected me. Rejection is painful, and out of my horrible feelings, I would be inclined to seek revenge and make them experience the kind of pain I was experiencing.

Life would lose much meaning. Most likely I would initially leave, but I would then plot some sort of revenge and inflict it upon my persecutor, whom I would want to experience unimaginable anguish for obliterating my reason to live.

After watching the cottagers’ happiness, bestowing favors upon them, and forming emotional connections, I would not be able to withstand rejection. Upon being struck without even a chance to speak, I fear that I would strike back. I would be so filled with disappointment and loathing that I would fight. Because of my size, I know that I would cause a great deal of damage, and after realizing what I had done, I would run off.

I know now that my whole life is ruined because of these people. Everything I’ve ever worked towards or hoped for is for nothing. I blame these people for throwing my life in the garbage. They don’t even justify my complete ruin with any kind of explanation. I know I’m not responsible for this, so I feel complete hate. I decide to be violent now, too. I strike them back and give the best fight I can since I now have nothing to lose.

I would be very angry and hurt, probably because I would have no future. I would probably react violently, and once I got hold of my emotions, I would probably talk to no one else for the rest of my life.

An empty pit grew suddenly in my stomach. I felt as though the world had turned and stared at me in my weakest moment. I now bore scars both physical and emotional, but they were trifles when compared to the rage and hurt that filled the pit in my stomach and found a vent in lashing out, yelling, angry tears. I had loved them, counted on them to save me, but could no longer bear to see them.

The creature became inflamed with anger. He had done everything he thought he could do to be accepted, but now he wrested the ax from Felix and struck him back, crushing his skull. Agatha escaped during the struggle, but the other two remained. He destroyed them as well while demanding to know why they could not accept him. He then fled the scene.

Regaining Composure

My first instinct would be to seek protection through escape. By removing myself from the location itself, I would be able to create emotional distance. Once safely away, I would rationalize, justifying my own actions and motives. Then I would engage in some activity at which I excelled, so as to suppress the memory of this failure and to redefine myself by my own choice of actions rather than leaving myself to be defined by others.

I would most likely end up walking away at first. I would walk until I couldn’t see him anymore, and then knowing my emotional self, I would most likely burst into tears. I would try to gain some composure, but how long I would cry would depend on how badly I was hurting.

The first thing I would most likely do would be call a close friend or my mother. I would need to talk to someone. Then I would most likely have her come to my house of go to hers to talk and watch a movie to take my mind away. After that I would sleep for a while. Being hurt and stressed tires the body and mind quite a lot. After a few days I would try to take a different route, so to speak; I would try living life again.

When my worst fears had been realized and my fairytale hopes had been dashed, I would probably retreat, withdrawing from society for some time and rethinking what I was attempting to do.

After hiding for a time, feeling sadness and hopelessness, I would try again. I’m not sure what I would do, but it would not happen at once—not until I could pull myself together.

The first thing I would do would be to run off into seclusion somewhere and break down. Such emotional anguish would be almost unbearable without some form of release. Next I would gather my composure and assess the situation and debate whether to take vengeance on those that had done me harm.

Self-examination

I would try to make contact with these people again and ask for a hearing, or else I would try to find someone who was more understanding. I would find it difficult not to feel rage or bitterness towards these people, but I would try to see the situation from their point of view and adjust my behavior accordingly. I would not give up easily, for I would continue to hope that persistence would eventually earn for me the outcome that I wanted.

I would feel depression, anger, lowered self-esteem, and heartache. It would take a lot of personal therapy to bring me back and set new goals for me. I would contemplate all my faults, what I could try to change about myself, and how I could have approached the situation differently. The anger would definitely be a result of the low self-esteem and heartache. I would blame both the other person and myself.

I would run to a place where I could be alone. There I would take time to ponder on what had just happened and analyze it from both perspectives. I never give up even in the most difficult situations, so I would try to make people see me as who I really was by finding some way of revealing this without showing my hideous face. If they still wouldn’t accept me, I would know they had never deserved to know me in the first place.

Second Try

I think I would handle the situation much as Uncle Tom did. I would try to get him to respect me by killing him with kindness.

If, after being rejected, I still wanted to gain acceptance from those people, I would ask them why they reacted the way they did. If they responded with an answer that was both logical and true, I would have no choice but to accept rejection. However, if I found fault with their response, I would call them out on it and explain why they were wrong in rejecting me. After this explanation, if I was still rejected I would tell them that they were the one missing out and that rejecting me was only going to harm them.

I would continue to pursue this person.

I would try to find if there is anybody else that would accept me for who I am. I would get angry at the person who rejected me and nobody else. I would try to make him feel he was wrong for not accepting me.

I wouldn’t strike back. I would kneel to the ground. After all, if one were just to stand without movement, the person doesn’t know what to expect. When someone kneels or submits, how can the attacker think himself in danger? If I got him to feel that I’m not going to hurt him or anything like that, I think I would be able to have a conversation with him.

I would be depressed all the time, but I would still survive. Being rejected is no fun, so it would take me some time to reintroduce myself to the world, but I would prepare myself by learning more about the world, and then I would approach the cottagers again and explain my story. I hope they would accept me. I would be afraid and shy, but I would still try because it never hurts to try.

I would do some acting. When hit, I would pretend to be hurt so badly that I would collapse and pretend to have passed out. While on the ground, I would wait for them to help me and listen to what the family were saying. Knowing that the cottagers were nice people, I would rely on the assumption that they were considerate enough to nurse me rather than try to kill me. I hoped that when I came to they would feel unthreatened. By disguising myself as weak and vulnerable, I would ease the fear and threat presented by my gigantic size.

As the creature, I would knock out anyone who assaulted me—except the old blind man. After neutralizing Felix, the major threat, I would tell the blind man my story, everything I had been through, my hopes, and the services I had performed for him and his family. I would beg him to give me a chance, ignoring my ugliness. I would do my best to win him over, for I needed an ally to help me win the trust of the others. Next I would awaken Felix. As I am stronger and more agile than he, I could hold him in a position in which he could not hurt me and would have to listen. With the assistance of the old man, I could win him over. Then I would leave and let them tell the women, who would be too terrified to listen to me. I would then retreat to my hovel for a few days, and after a short time I would beg them to take me in.

I would walk away in complete dismay and sorrow asking myself why I was rejected even before I had a chance to show who I was. I would hide in a private place for days and cry. Eventually I would gain the strength to try again. . . .

I would feel very awkward and emotionally hurt, uncomfortable, and a bit angry that these people, whom I had thought to be so kind, could be so shallow. I would probably try to approach them again, smiling and looking as friendly as possible. However, if the same thing happened again, I would write down my feelings and put the page where they would find it. I would hope that they would have a change of heart after reading my letter.

I would leave the cottagers a note asking to meet them and warning them to be prepared for my hideous appearance the next time we met.

I would seek to understand what about me caused my rejection. If I could change it, I would. If that were not possible, as in the case of physical appearance, I would apply whatever knowledge I had of these people!!to find an “angle” or sentiment to appeal to. I would hope to draw on similarities between us to gain his understanding, interest, or sympathy.

Abandonment / Seeking Others

I had no friends, no creator bound to love me, and so I must attempt wildly to gain the love of someone—anyone—around me solely through an ingratiating manner. I must use words, words that these cottagers had themselves taught me, to convey a world of meanings in one miniscule moment of time. When my words did not work, I had no idea where to turn next. My first reaction was utter despair. I was broken and cared not if they knew it. Rather, I hoped they did know my pain and see my shame, that they who caused it might alleviate it with reconciling friendship. I therefore collapsed in despair, supplicating them for mercy, but their faces showed revulsion, and I knew then that my endeavor was forever fruitless. Any message I had to give the world was forever lost behind a mask of hideous, loathsome ugliness. I abandoned the attempt immediately and I struck out on my own, henceforth seeking isolation in the severest sense. Only then could I commune solely with myself and forget the pain others had caused.

At first I felt dismay. My whole being had been directed toward these people. However, I realized that if they could not accept me as I am, maybe I thought too highly or wrongly of them. I would be hurt and saddened by my misjudgment. Luckily, I am a strong person and do not need the acceptance of all people. I would look for others who could love me as I am. Maybe they aren’t perfect, but they would accept me.

Ashamed now of the folly of my hopes, I am left empty and lost with no idea of what may be my future. . . . I now cannot trust even my own feelings since to do so may cause me still more pain. I will now guard against any positive expectations. I will never expect any goodness again, lest I be again exposed to this desolate sadness.

At first, I think, I would be completely dumbfounded. I would not know how to react or where to go next. I would, of course, go someplace where I was safe from any more abuse; then I think that I would just sit for an extended period of time thinking about whether there was anything worth living for. Eventually I would come to the conclusion that there must be happiness out there someplace. There are so many things in the world that have brought me joy: the singing of birds, the changing of seasons, the various tastes and smells. Then I would continue my journey, determined to find some place in the world that could bring me joy.

My fists clenched, I could feel my fingernails begin to dig into my skin. How could he reject me? I had looked up to him for so long that I had built him up to be a saint in my mind. And this is how he treats me. . . . I had to control myself. I was surprised by my reaction to this disappointment. Most people become sad; I just became angry. He started to walk back, seemingly scared of my appearance. I did the last thing in the world I wanted to do but the only thing left: I walked away.

I would give up. The thought of being assaulted mortifies me, and I could not bear to risk having it happen again. After a period of depression, I would accept myself without being assured of anyone’s acceptance.

I would immediately turn away from whomever and never face them again. I would no longer respect them and look up to them. . . . If they can’t accept me for who I am, then they must not be that great to begin with.