There are two types of rejection I’ve experienced — and I mean real rejection, not just the casual “I can’t hang out with you” type of stuff. When I think about it, I notice that rejection goes hand in hand with men, at least in my life. I don’t want to be that type of girl, but honestly, my only real experiences with rejection — the ones where I actually felt the embarrassment and disappointment — have been because of guys.

Before this year, I don’t think I had ever felt that kind of rejection. Maybe because I never put myself in situations where I could be rejected. Or maybe because I didn’t care enough.

Earlier this year, I was sort of seeing this guy. We met up for the first time and went for coffee. We walked through a park and talked a lot. I thought we were having a good time. Later, when we were saying goodbye, he asked if I wanted to see him again. I said yes, and when I asked him how he felt, he looked me dead in the eye and said, “no,” with a completely serious face.

I didn’t even know what I felt at that moment. First came the embarrassment, and then the thought: oh, so this is what rejection feels like. It was quick, almost funny, but it stayed with me. Turns out he was joking, but that split second felt so real it left a mark.

The second time — maybe the real first time — happened a few weeks ago. This summer, a customer came to pick up his takeout at the restaurant where I work. The first thing I noticed was his style. Maybe it wasn’t that special, but compared to everyone else around here, it stood out.

I helped him with his order, but I was so nervous I could barely look at him. Not because I liked him, exactly. It felt more like admiration. And before I could think of something to say, he was gone. I regretted not asking for his socials, but then I let it go.

Weeks later, I came straight from my internship for my shift, and there he was, sitting at bar 5. For a moment, I didn’t know how to move. The whole shift I was debating with myself — should I ask him, or not? I knew I would regret it if I stayed quiet.

When he asked for the bill, my colleague gave me a look, and I knew it was now or never. My plan was to say something about how I liked his style and then ask for his socials. Instead, I just blurted out, “Can I get your socials?

Of course, he probably thought I meant it in a flirty way. He just stared at me for what felt like forever and then said, “Oh sorry, I have a girlfriend.” And because this all happened in Dutch, it felt ten times more awkward.

Honestly, it’s not even that he rejected me — it’s more the fact that I didn’t explain myself properly. I regret it so much because I feel like if I had just mentioned his style first, I might have actually gotten his socials. 

But one thing’s for sure: I definitely boosted his ego that night.

Both of these experiences were very different. I know now that the embarrassment that comes with rejection is normal, and that the feeling of missed opportunity often feels heavier than being rejected.