Dumped, But Not Down

Rejection is a fundamental law of the (social) universe. But if you laser in on every dis, you'll likely trigger a self-fulfilling prophecy. Rejection-sensitivity is on the rise, but you can learn to brave even the biggest brush-offs.

By Carlin Flora, published on July 01, 2007 - last reviewed on September 11, 2007

Still, there are situations that bring out the rejection-phobe in even the sturdiest soul. Starting a new school or moving to a new neighborhood makes everyone vulnerable to self-doubt. And power differentials—say, between boss and employee—attune everyone to the slightest hint of rejection. "I am the department chair," says Downey. "I don't think of myself as being in a position of power, yet I notice that people read more into my behavior. Sometimes I look at my watch during a meeting simply because I'm trying to figure out how much time I have left. But people misinterpret that and apologize, or even get up to leave."

Cushions and Buffers

Dismantling a hypersensitive rejection-detection system is far easier said than done. Asked how becoming a prominent expert on rejection has helped him deal with personal brush-offs, Leary responds with a sigh. "I don't know that it has. But in retrospect, I understand very well what happened after I've overreacted to rejection. I know exactly what went wrong. But it still went wrong." Awareness, though, is the first step in breaking the rejection-sensitivity cycle.

The best remedy for rejection-sensitivity is caring friends who can tolerate defensive antics and engender trust. Downey found that among rejection-sensitive people who did manage to find and keep a loving romantic partner, reactivity abated over time. Perhaps the support of a good person kicks the subversive cycle into reverse mode: The rejection-phobe begins to feel more secure, which paves the way for an even happier relationship, until an empty inbox is no longer a cold reproach or a sign of impending doom—but rather just an empty inbox.