"Get Rejected, Bro"

Mannnnnnn I’m back on my bullshit.

In the 6 months since the last writing I sent you from Cali, Colombia, for what I’ve lacked in writing, I have made up for in getting rejected.

The site has grown despite me not lifting a finger, and the monthly checks keep rolling in, thus I find myself inspired (read: guilty and anxious) to write something for you.

[By monthly checks, I mean Jessica’s donation, which after absorbent fees, almost gets me a coffee here in Austin, Texas. I paid $7.50 for a black coffee the other day. The fuck? But for real, Shoutout Jessica!]

For those who’ve recently joined, whether you found me through an article about healing, quitting porn, or otherwise, welcome. These emails are just me talking shit, but I sincerely wish that shit is relevant to you.

Today’s topic? REJECTION.

For context, since those days in far-off countries living the dream, I have since headed home to Texas to confront… everything. Mixed in to my growth process now… confrontation, risk-taking (including risking rejection), and bearing one’s suffering.

Journal 10/16/25

Lots of rejection, but I’m living life in this raw, unfiltered way and I ain’t going out with a “what if.”

[Side note: here’s what I mean by ‘taking a risk that might lead to rejection’:

• Submitting countless auditions and being ghosted every time

• Asking that pretty girl out

• Taking the initiative (and risk) to make a new friend

• Showing up to the addiction recovery room despite feeling ashamed

• Getting on the open mic and introducing yourself at an industry mixer

• Walking into a high-end establishment with zero experience and telling the manager, with a straight face, “I’d like to join the team.”]

I have been getting rejected a LOT lately. One is tempted to think, “well I’m fucked up,” but let’s consider for a moment a different idea.

I am simply more able to be rejected. Whereas before I’d avoid the risk and keep my hands over my face so a punch could never slip through, maintaining the pleasant but unrealistic bubble that I’m universally desired and acceptable… I now stick my chin out and allow the punch to land. (My fighters know that when we strike—take a risk—we are simultaneously more vulnerable to being struck.)

Numbers-wise, if I take zero swings, I will never miss. But I be taking swings, baby, and I be missing.

More clashing with the ego’s carefully propped up mask of acceptability. I continue to strip that mask away, only to reveal a bear, at times ugly, but deeply human layer that I nor the world have ever seen.

Like newly exposed skin after removing a cast, the air feels chilly and uncomfortable. Yet, over time, it adapts, and the air might even begin to feel refreshing.

I use rejection to sharpen myself, to kill my ego and neediness, and to elevate my career, social life, and mental fortitude.

I got rejected today, a bad one. I went in public and, while still aching from the gut punch of the initial rejection, risked rejection again, and got it. It was beautiful.

I always wanted to be the type of man that could approach anyone, friend or employer or casting director or attractive woman, and simply ask for what I want.

I always wanted to be someone who goes after what the wanted even in the face of fear. I am now well on my way to become that man.

For The Men… Rejection & Porn Use

As urges hit me to numb the pain of rejection through the use of other women and a fantasy land where the women never say no (porn), I resist.

Weathering a particularly difficult rejection, I chose not to fight a battle I couldn’t win, and left the house. (The Art of War states: don’t fight battles you can’t win.)

I saw myself nearly search something sexual on a “non-porn site” like Reddit (it is a porn site), and I likened it to an alcoholic considering taking his first drink.

Just one beer, he says. Harmless. Yet, two days and a 36-hour binge later, he wakes up unsure as to how the hell that innocuous first swig led to him passing out in the bar. I closed the tab and shut the laptop.

However, my brothers, any of us can fall at any moment. I try to view rejection as an opportunity to be with that feeling without hitting the emergency eject button on my emotions and escaping to fantasy land.

The logical, grown, rational man knows… intellectually… that he will be okay. But the boy inside is screaming “GET US OUT OF HERE.”

The boy doesn’t process intellectually. He goes off of experience and safety. Thus, we cannot simply out-logic him. We must get the reps in associating rejection with safety before he believes it. Until then, he will continue to run the show.

Get Rejected, Bro

A friend of mine told me that, similar to me, he always feels stifled when we wants to talk to the girl that really interests him. The girl that’s okay, good enough, or at least she’s interested in me… no problem. But the one he truly wants, he feels that fear.

My solution: get rejected. A lot.

The higher earners in big companies are not those with the highest IQs—they are the sales people who do not fear rejection.

The men that punch above their weight in dating do so because of their willingness to risk and weather rejection, over and over.

There is freedom in rejection. I look to become one of those free, zero-fucks, weathered folks that are unfazed by rejection and thus live a full life.

So go, get rejected, a lot, bro…

P.S. My use of em dashes—like these ones—may make you think that ChatGPT wrote this article. Not the case, fam. From virtual girlfriends to stealing the em dash, AI continues to f*ck the game up!