Healing from Rejection in Love: the Stories We Tell Ourselves
- loreblancke
- Aug 31
- 3 min read
Updated: Nov 5
Different Faces, Same Echo
Hmm… turns out I create my podcast episodes for my own learning 😏. Because something clicked for me in a deeper way again, especially in this one — about rejection, and how damn sneaky it can be in love.
Healing Rejection in Relationships: That Familiar Ache
For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt a pull toward people who aren’t quite on the same page about relationship.
Romantically, it’s one of my patterns.
And when I drop beyond the analysis into the felt sense, I can feel it — the ache of rejection.
They like me, sure. Maybe even adore parts of me. But they're simply not the right person to co-create the relationship I am longing for.
It’s almost funny, really, how I keep doing this thing.
When I’m tired at the end of the day and sink into that unguarded layer, I see a little girl in me. Waiting. Hoping. Shape-shifting. People-pleasing.
Trying to earn love that doesn’t land.
Because it never really did, back then, either.
The Twist
What’s wild is — from my adult perspective, I know we’re not a great fit. Sometimes I’m even the one cutting the cord.
And still… the pain flares up around them not wanting me.
Like that’s the part I can’t let go of.
The real sting is: some old part of me turns it into proof that I am not wanted.
Instead of simply seeing, “oh, okay, not a match,”
my brain decides to write a full Greek tragedy about my existential unlovability.
Even when my adult self knows it’s just two humans not fitting well, some inner 6-year-old is like:“BUT WHY DON’T THEY WANT MEEE?!”
The ache feels bigger than the situation calls for. And the old story gets confirmed:
I’m not loved for who I am.
This person isn’t available for me.
See? Told you so.
Different faces. Same echo.
Recreating what I know.
The Rejection Loop, in Love
Here’s what I mean by “the rejection loop”:
We fear rejection, so we don’t show ourselves fully.
We hold back, shape-shift, or play “cool.”
The other can’t meet us because the real us isn’t even in the room.
And then we feel rejected anyway.
Or, we do show up fully, but to someone who’s simply not available. And when they don’t (or can’t) choose us, the ache feels ten times bigger than the actual situation.
That’s when my cool, sunglasses-wearing part pipes up:“This is simply out of proportion.” 😎
Meanwhile, another part of me is crying on the kitchen floor. 🥲
Both are me.
And both are true.
Why This Matters
If you’re someone who feels rejection more intensely than seems “reasonable,” you’re not broken.
It’s just that younger parts of us still long to be chosen — and when they’re touched, the ache is bigger than the here-and-now.
This is messy. It’s universal.
And also so damn personal.
From Pain to Play
In my work — like during the Liberation Journey weekends — I see over and over that rejection doesn’t have to be a dead end.
When someone says no, they’re showing you their truth. That’s intimacy.
And when we survive rejection without collapsing, we build trust. We realize:
I can hear “no.”I can stay with myself. And I’m still whole.
That’s where things get juicy. Because on the other side of shame and collapse, there’s room for play, laughter, and creation.
My Soft Invitation
If this resonates with you — the ache, the loop, the longing — I made this podcast episode for us.
🎙️ The Rejection Loop: What’s Really Going On (and How to Step Out)on the Intimate Breath podcast.
For the ones who still sometimes wait to be picked. And the ones learning we don’t have to.





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