Rejection Archives | Dr. Kelly Rees

Expectations and Responsibilities

Expectations shape our whole lives. Our families, schools, religions and cultures imbue us with expectations, both explicit and implicit. We ingest these expectations consciously and unconsciously, we push them on each other intentionally and unintentionally. In search of belonging, we willingly and unwillingly conform to expectations that are relentlessly imposed. They’re everywhere.

Since the Supreme Court overturned Roe V Wade – imposing an expectation that women bear children under even the most preposterous of circumstances – I’ve found myself reflecting on how expectations play out in my own life, and in the lives of my clients.

My dad disappeared for a couple of years when I was 12, shortly after my parents decided to divorce. We had no idea where he was. For most of my life I have wondered about the impact that had on me. 50 years later, I’m still discovering how my fear of abandonment shows up.

I remember crying a lot, crying at school about the littlest things, getting teased for my sensitivity. The cottonwood trees fluffed out the last day of school and the fluff kept getting in my eyes, which kept tearing up. Boys mocked me. “Uh-oh, crying in school! Whatsa matter, are you sad? Boo hoo!” I was standing in line to talk to our teacher, Mrs. Jones. I don’t know what I wanted to say to her, anything to have a moment of her attention, to stretch out the protection of school another few minutes before the lonely latch-key abyss. Katie C. was in front of me and told Mrs. Jones her cat had died and I started crying. Someone asked me why I was crying about Katie’s cat, whom I had never met, and I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know why I was crying and I couldn’t stop.

Now I understand I was an anxious child. My anxiety was emotional and bodily; I was extra-sensitive to everything. Hyper-vigilant.

It’s too late to ask my dad why he disappeared. He died in 1999 at the age of 61 from complications of lifelong alcoholism and constant cigarette smoking. He was the age I am now. I know he felt shame about not living up to the expectations set by his parents. I don’t know if he felt the weight of parenthood when he decided to leave. Sometimes it’s easier to escape than to face the daily not-living-up-to-it. He surfaced several years later in a different city with a different woman and her son, living a different life.

Maybe leaving lessens feelings of failure. If I feel like I have not met my family’s or church’s or society’s expectations it is less painful to distance myself from those expectations than show up and constantly be reminded of failure.

Somehow this is accepted in our world; that fathers sometimes disappear. Maybe part of the problem is the binary nature of gender role expectations: What Fathers Do, What Mothers Do. What if our expectations of What Children Need won over What Parents Must Do. Would that yield more fully parented children?

If I could go back in time I would ask my dad to stick around. I would tell him that his disappearance would devastate me, and especially my little brother. That for us— as bad as it was— it was better than having him missing. I would ask him to figure out how to be a dad and to drink less. Please.

Even after he returned I felt his absence; it had ripped the fabric of me, and of our family.

I can’t fill the dad-shaped hole in my heart. It will be there all my days. It is unfixable. And: I have discovered I can live with it.

In the months leading up to my dad disappearing, my mom struggled. She worked full-time and had two anxious, upset young children who were her sole responsibility. Our home was foreclosed upon and we struggled financially on her secretary’s salary. (In 1971, women’s salaries were 59% of men’s. It was expected that women didn’t need to be paid as much because their husbands would have jobs.) My mom was filled with rage and grief, and suffered from lifelong depression that went undiagnosed until she was 60. She screamed and smashed things. I hid in my room a lot.

I’m pretty sure you can’t force anyone to be a good parent. Forcing men to take responsibility is a joke, partly because Patriarchy, and partly because even if you put in your time, it doesn’t ensure you are not doing harm. I have witnessed families so dysfunctional as to be unsafe and trauma-inducing. Between a rock and a hard place, the most vulnerable ones lose.

Some families have generational histories of dysfunction and abuse. They have learned to not give a fuck about others, to not trust anyone. To only look out for themselves. Their expectation: life is brutal, you will get hurt, you will hurt others. They have cultivated rigid armor which protects them from vulnerability, from caring about anyone, even themselves.

My wish is simple: that we not hurt each other so much. That we become more aware of our own needs first, then to the needs of those around us. Some days that looks like examining assumptions and expectations; to let go of what is not true or appropriate, and to grow in the direction of caring. It is my job to tend to my wounds and get away from those who would hurt me. When I am doing the hurting, it is my job to stop it as soon as I become aware.

We can undo suffering, we can heal from trauma, and we can learn new skills that suit us better than our old skills.

And lastly:

The child who is not embraced by its village

Will burn it down to feel its warmth.

-African Proverb

“As I was turning down a man’s advances today I realized I was trying to be nice about it… even after he hugged me without asking, bugged me for my phone number, and I had already said a few days ago that I wasn’t interested in going on a date with him.

So why was I trying to be nice? This deeply disturbed me. When I asked myself why, I realized that one of my calculations about how direct I feel I can be is the reality that most stalkers, kidnappers, and killers are men — and many are “set off” by the rejection of a woman.” —Shanya Luther, M. Div

The man in this example may have felt he was flirting, essentially paying her a compliment with his attention. What’s the difference between flirting and harassment? Flirting is welcome, harassment is not. Being able to tell the difference is knowing where you are welcome and where you are not.

Consent culture requires emotional maturity. It takes a lot of the guesswork out and replaces it with clarity. For this to work, everyone needs to be okay with rejection: both receiving and giving. Yes, it removes some of the mystery and it also removes much of the potential harm. Some will still avoid consent because taking what they want is as enjoyable as getting what they want. Some will avoid it because if you don’t ask, you don’t get a “no.”

What would happen if you slowed it down and took the time to become more sensitive to someone’s reactions, looking past the surface smile?

When a woman decides to reveal her real response she risks getting labeled a slut, a bitch, stuck up, disagreeable, “not a team player,” or any of a long list of names we call someone who is not doing what we want. Ask yourself: is she smiling because she’s into you, or is that smile saying; “please don’t hurt me”? Is she not smiling because she’s not amused or because she’s scared you might get angry? Frequently I hear men say they wished women would be more straightforward. This is why they are not.

Louis CK (now infamous for using his position of power over women to fulfill his own sexual whim) said: “A woman saying yes to a date with a man is literally insane… and ill-advised! Men are the number one threat to women.”

Also, men have a tendency to overestimate women’s interest in them, and women have a history of concealing their true response. (Carin Perilloux & Robert Kurzban, 2014)

Let that sink in a minute.

Between our cultural bias towards men initiating encounters, which requires a lot of guessing, courage, and risk; and women’s acculturated “niceness,” tendency to caretake, and realistic fear of invoking violence, it amazes me anyone actually enjoys a first date.

A friend shared a piece of advice given him when he was young and wondering how on earth to kiss a girl. Advice: touch her face. If she closes her eyes, she wants you to kiss her. If she keeps her eyes open, she doesn’t; take your hand down and move along without making a fool of yourself.

Most of us have had years of this mysterious courtship.

Being told as a young girl that boys are sometimes mean when they like you added to my confusion. In third grade when Sammy Oliver chased me around the playground trying to kiss me, I was furious. While telling my mom I cried; she was laughing.

By seventh grade (and into eighth and ninth and …) I talked for hours with my girlfriends, analyzing boys’ actions, sifting for clues to how they felt about me. “He kicked a soccer ball at me, do you think he likes me?” Are men also obscure about their interest or do they show it in different ways, like kicking a soccer ball at a crush? Or was that just random, or did he really not like me?

Much has been said recently about the “fragility of the male ego” and its relationship to male violence. The ability to tolerate emotional discomfort (aka rejection) is an acquired skill. The more you practice being responsible for your own feelings and not lashing out or blaming others, the more emotional capacity you grow. The more you sustain rejection with softness, the less brittle you become.

If you have a hard time with rejection and want some insight; if you feel rough around the edges with dating, sex, and consent, let’s work together. I am forming several groups in January 2018 to work on consent and beyond.