Speaking in Tongues

I've been thinking about rejection.

Nothing specific has happened to make me think about it. I just felt it was time to rotate the shit I obsess over, and "rejection" came up next on the wheel. I've spent a lot of time recently obsessing about  my imminent death, and on what the hell am I going to do with these ridiculous 55 year-old boobs of mine, and on the menu for my Passover seder next week. I'm ready to move on to a new issue.

Focusing on rejection dredges up some cringe-worthy memories. Not the most embarrassing by a long shot, but one that comes easily to mind is when I I tried to add a little tongue to a chaste kiss a very cute boy once gave me and he politely returned it to my mouth. I even tried again, hoping against hope that perhaps his tongue-return was merely an involuntary reflex or the result of a small facial stroke or something, but no such luck. Returned to sender. Ouch.

I learned then that I am not a big fan of getting my tongue returned to me, and my stringent avoidance of rejection was borne. Also borne, my decision to stop tongue-kissing people who are clearly not attracted to me. And, with the exception of the summer of 1970 - when a French kiss was nothing more than a salutation - I've pretty much stuck to the policy. This all goes out the window, you understand, should I ever meet Theodore Bikel, because he rocks and he is totally getting tongue. Even though he may not be attracted to me. Even though I am happily married. Even though he may already be dead.

Claudia recently mentioned that every important thing she ever got, she got by begging. That comment intrigued me. This, of course, sparked a lively conversation about the definition of begging, our ability to market ourselves and, ultimately gay sex, the latter topic having been introduced by Doug, who has decided he is part of our Facebook salon; one of us, but the one of us who is young, single and gay. And the one of us who tires quickly when the conversation turns to, well, when it turns to topics not Doug. Which is how a thread about rejection morphed into a discussion about colonoscopy and Doug schooling us on how best to endure one. Until we pointed out that we don't need his helpful hints about that since a person is under total anesthesia for a colonoscopy, which, after having one, I am really thinking may be the best way to have gay sex, as well. I'm just saying. I think it would be a revelatory "note to self" moment for every gay man undergoing a colonoscopy. In fact, I am considering putting myself under anesthesia for hetero sex from now on.

I so admire the Claudia's of the world, knowing their worth, asking/begging for what they want, getting their due. They balance the me's of the world who've marched into the boss' office with both barrels blazing, demanding the world, and left empty-handed, asking at least that my parking be validated. And not even getting that.

Rejection is a mean bitch. But I am ready to get into the ring with her. I am older, wiser, I've got these ridiculous boobs that I have no idea what to do with anymore, and I've been carb-loading since....well, since my first pregnancy in 1982. Smart money is on Dr. Strangemom.

I just need to decide where to begin, where I will mount my first battle against rejection.

Yoo hoo. Oh, Mr. Bikel.......

Comments

[Claire]

I'm so terrified of rejection I avoid most social interaction. It's not such a great longterm strategy but I gave birth to a lot of kids to keep me company so it works out okay.

[Karen Jackson]

The way I see it, if you are feeling rejected, it nature's way of telling you that you care too much about what others think. I say, REJECT REJECTION! or maybe it's EMBRACE REJECTION!

[Barbara]

Sorry, but I'm stuck on the image of you french kissing a very very dead Theodore Bickel.

[dr. strangemom]

Get away, Barbara. He's mine. Dead or alive.

[Wendy Diamond]

Karen is right; big sisters always are. I've discovered the concept of Disengagement which works great. It's a simple(!) matter of defining the boundaries of your personal space as to include only the people/careers/things/money that like rather than reject you. (Well, money is a hard thing to be rejected by, no matter how much zen-ish evolvement you have.) Is there a country music song in this perhaps? "Rejection means there's something left to embrace" sung to the tune of.... ya know.

[Wendy Diamond]

P.S. There are enough cute old guys around to kiss that you don't have to include the dead ones.

[Doris]

Well, Ann, if you want to reject some of those fabulous boobs you don't know what to do with anymore, I'll take some off your hands...or I mean chest!

[debbie robinson(ringerman)]

i only have 1 question - how are your boobs 55 and mine are 57 going on 58 and we were in the same group at camp all our lives??? were you lying about your age when we were 8 or are your boobs lying now??
love, debbie

[Claudia]

Somehow I missed this most recent blog post until tonight. I clicked on your page to see if maybe, just maybe I'd missed a blog as I was missing your blog and here I am, named in it! And I didn't even have to BEG you to mention me, Ann.

Rejection is incredibly interesting. When I hear the word "rejected" or the word "rejection," my ears perk up. I feel I might learn something. And I know I am about to hear a brave and honest tale when a person tells a story about rejection. Your story here is both.

We all read how failure teaches us more than success, but usually what failure teaches us is "Don't try to do THAT again." It took you a long time to french kiss again. So how was that failure at such tender age helpful? Some people seem to be inspired by competition, but many of us collapse and stop trying, simply feel hot shame and never try again to do something we thought we were good at, something we may very well be incredibly talented at doing.

As a parent, I am constantly trying to figure out how to help my kids try again after they have faced rejection. And I think how, no doubt, my kids hide rejection from me the way I hid most of my rejections from my mother.

As for begging, I've been thinking about it after I brought it up to you, and I decided the thing about begging is we probably only beg people who seem nice and kind to us. We smell that empathy awaits us and it helps us let go of our pride and beg.

Thanks for another great blog, Ann. I beg you to write another soon!