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I know this feeling really well. Not in an abstract way — in the way where it used to take my whole body over. When I was younger, rejection didn’t just feel disappointing. It felt overwhelming. My emotions would go from calm to completely out of control in seconds, and at the time I had no idea why. I can point to one specific moment where it started. If I told you the story, it would sound like a pretty normal childhood experience. The kind of lesson every kid goes through at some point. And it was. But the way my body felt in that moment stuck. It was quick, just a moment, but something in me decided that feeling wasn’t safe to ever feel again. After that, anything that felt even remotely similar would set me off. I didn’t know that’s what was happening then. I just knew that when that feeling showed up, my whole system wanted to fight. Fight the feeling, fight the person, push people away before they could push me away. And I did it with a lot of intensity, because somewhere inside it felt safer to end the connection myself than risk losing it. I didn’t understand any of this until about ten years ago. Somatic therapy helped me realize I wasn’t reacting to what was actually happening in front of me — I was reacting to something old that never got to move through and finish. I still feel rejection sometimes. I’m human. But it doesn’t run my system the way it used to. Now when that familiar sting shows up, I recognize it for what it is. I let myself feel it instead of trying to get rid of it or act on it. I can feel the part of me that still wants to fight or shut down, and I let that wave come through without becoming it. And what I’ve noticed over time is that the more I let the feeling move through instead of reacting from it, the less intense it becomes and the less often it shows up at all. And this is where it looks different in real life now. Not because the feeling disappears, but because I’m not organizing my behavior around it anymore. For example, if my wife says she’s going to the store and doesn’t ask me to go, I might feel a small pinch of rejection. I don’t ask to go with her to make the feeling stop, and I’m not trying to fix myself in that moment. I’ve already felt the feeling and I know where it comes from. So if I ask, “Want company?” it’s coming from the present, not from panic. And if she says no, I’m okay. I understand she’s taking care of herself, not rejecting me. Both things can be true — I can feel an old sensation for a moment and still stay grounded in what’s actually happening now. That’s what emotional regulation has come to mean for me. Not getting rid of feelings, and not pushing them away, but letting them move through without letting them decide what happens next.
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