



Rejection: A Love Story By: Amanda Williams
A long, long time ago, in a far off land…..a land of firsts and lasts- lived a girl in her twenties. This girl desired to be loved. So much so that she justified a one sided relationship for 4 years. Let my story be lesson for you.
It was love at first. I wanted him to be the one. I wanted him to be my only. But I could never bring myself to tell him that. We met sophomore year of college, looking back now I realize how silly I was. Giving my heart to a man who never knew he had it. I thought I was protecting myself. That if I didn’t say I loved him – it couldn’t hurt so bad. That the less I said it out loud the better I would feel.
Like Samantha in Sex and the City, I was convinced I wasn’t going to rely on a man. I wanted to be independent. Empowered. I wanted no regrets. To feel beautiful. And yet this girl was fat. You may equate fat to beautiful now, but this princess thought of it only as a death sentence.
Therefore, I deemed myself unworthy. I convinced myself that he could not love me. So he would not break my heart. I was unworthy of his love and loyalty because I was fat. It was much easier playing the part of a serial dater than to convince myself that I could be worth it. Four years, I pretended he wasn’t the one I wanted. I spent four years, talking about him to friends and family, all the while keeping my precious feelings to myself. And all because I was fat.
But the story doesn’t end there, because there was another suitor and she was skinny. Yes! She was skinny and petite- everything I wasn’t. He showed interest in us both a comparison and battle that I was all too familiar with…skinny vs. fat. Awkward vs. petite. I saw defeat. There was no competition. Instead I cursed her name and when he needed me – I dropped everything to be there. Four years.
We played this game of agony for four years. I remember one night toward the end of our story, it was just she and I in the middle of a crowded bar- we stood side by side and she said something to me- It was kind and probably funny. And it hit me…this princess was just like me. Sure, she was skinny and petite but she was also nice. I had no reason to hate her. In fact, if he wasn’t in the picture I probably would have liked her.
She didn’t steal my man. There was no man to steal. I had not given myself that opportunity, as I never felt comfortable with the feelings of vulnerability and therefore never shared my feelings.

