Hurlstone In Progress: On rejection – is there ever a nice way to say goodbye?

I have, regrettably, always been the dumpee rather than the dumper. A consistent path I did not consciously choose.

Rejection never really gets easier. You’d think after a few rounds you’d build up an emotional callus to it, but not at all. It’s even worse when it’s someone you genuinely liked or were intimate with and therefore seemingly chemically attached to, against your will.

I’m still trying to strike a balance between putting my chronically single self out there and not being so open that I wander directly into another visibly doomed situation.

There’s a fine line between throwing yourself headfirst into something and being so suspicious that you never step foot into the dating pool at all. I’d like to believe I’m being brave, and not naïve, by choosing the former.

What hurts most isn’t actually the rejection itself. It’s the limbo.

That sixth sense when something feels off. The slower replies. The subtle shift in tone. The lack of proactive plan-making. You know what’s coming, but you don’t want to be the one to drag it into the light because that feels desperate. So you wait and stew in the insecurity.

I’m beginning to think that no one is in the right place, ever

Being rejected is fine. Being slowly phased out is not.

It is entirely reasonable to date someone and then decide they’re not your person. That is normal. What isn’t normal is letting someone sit in emotional purgatory because you can’t summon the courage to send a mildly uncomfortable text.

My most recent rejection came from someone who I genuinely thought was different, and wasn’t so keen on being a case study. He wasn’t pretentious, or of limited knowledge, or an obvious menace. But instead of saying he wasn’t capable of anything more, he left me hovering in that strange in-between for days.

Eventually, I received the classic: “Just not in the right place.”

I’m beginning to think that no one is in the right place, ever.

The problem wasn’t the outcome. It was the waiting. The quiet hope I still had, despite my friend sending me continuous GIFs of that dreaded white rabbit with the clock, which I’ve now seen so many times that I find it cute. I hated the ambiguous feeling.

The real issue in modern dating seems to be that intentions are often withheld until after intimacy

In contrast, one former rejector handled it admirably. After three dates, no intimacy, and limited emotional investment, he informed me I was not the girl he wanted as a long-term partner. Efficient. Clean. Clinical.

We unfollowed each other. I moved on.

In hindsight, he was not as tall as advertised, and once asked me whether women have to masturbate to insert tampons, and it was in that moment that the minor catfishing about his height felt like the least of the red flags. He was 24…

Perspective is a lovely thing!

Maybe that rejection hurt less because there was no emotional attachment. Or maybe because clarity is easier to cope with than confusion.

The real issue in modern dating seems to be that intentions are often withheld until after intimacy. There is nothing wrong with wanting something casual. There is something wrong with letting someone assume it might be more.

My first ever ‘date’, I say that lightly, turned out to be a one-night stand disguised as potential. I only found out a month later when he informed me that he “couldn’t possibly date anyone” because he needed to focus on his self-inflicted, entirely optional running schedule.

A running schedule.

That one knocked me. Not because I was deeply attached, but because it made me feel a fool for thinking that it had meant something different. Rejection bruises your ego, but ambiguity makes you feel like you can’t trust yourself.

The least we can do is be honest before someone invests their time, hope, or body into something that was never going to exist

The hardest rejection of all was from someone I’d been seeing for a few months. I told him I wasn’t looking for something casual. He told me he wasn’t over his ex and had met me only four days after they broke up. He was a Hinge specimen, of course.

This was painful, but at least it was honest.

Rejection is inevitable. Cruelty is optional. Clarity is hard, but limbo puts you in emotional stasis.

We are all going to say goodbye to people at some point. And eventually be on either side. The least we can do is be honest before someone invests their time, hope, or body into something that was never going to exist.

Maybe I get emotionally invested too quickly and begin to romanticise everything. But I would rather feel things properly than become so detached that I never risk anything at all.

There may never be a ‘nice’ way to say goodbye. But there is always a kinder one.