the no that echoes

i think about rejection more than i’d like to admit.

there’s this moment i know too wel the one before rejection.
before you say the thing. before you ask. before you let yourself be seen.

diff is like handing someone your favorite drawing, hoping they’ll like it, but they just shrug and slowly drop it under their desk.” ok maybe this is too personal @ my 1st grade bf you feel that quiet sting of being turned down, like your effort didn’t quite make the cut

i think a lot of us stay there. on the edge.
we don’t risk the no, so we don’t get the yes either.

what i’ve learned (and i’m still learning) is that most of my fear isn’t about rejection itself — it’s about what i make it mean.
that i’m not likable. that i’m forgettable. that i care too much.
and it spirals from there: if they don’t choose me, maybe no one will.

which sounds dramatic, i know, but tell that to my brain at 1am.

the hard truth is: sometimes people reject you.
not because you’re bad or wrong or too much just because they don’t get it. or they’re not ready. or they’re dealing with their own mess. sometimes it a little personal.
but that still doesn’t mean you’re not worthy of being chosen. or heard. or loved.

i think the bravest thing we can do is let people see us, even when there’s no guarantee they’ll stay.
because hiding doesn’t protect you from pain it just protects you from connection too.
and if you want the real stuff the friendship that holds you, the love that doesn’t flinch, the spaces that feel like exhaling
you have to risk the no.

and honestly? i’d gotten used to being rejected and i think the bravest thing you can do is try anyway to show up to try if doesn’t work out maybe just wasn’t meant to be yours

chloe

(who still hesitates, but doesn’t let that be the end of the story)