The art of accepting rejection

So the other day, I sent a text to one of the guys who came over and fucked me last week. I was all, like, "Man, that was so hot the other day, can't wait to do it again." At first he sent the usual fake response of a smiley face emoticon, but I could sense that there was something he wasn't saying. Me being me, I responded, "Well, gee, don't rush to give me such enthusiastic feedback!" He responded, "It was alright, but I don't feel compelled to come back for seconds. You know how it is. Happy hunting." I must admit, I was shocked. I had thought that our little tryst (in the tiny "alley" behind my apartment building at 6am in the morning, no less) was quite hot, and so I pressed for feedback. He resisted giving it to me until I said, "Well, I guess you don't care enough to be honest with me," at which point he shot back a pointed email telling me, among other things, that I was "thinner in [my] picture, hotter in [my] picture," and that my hole "wasn't as clean as it should have been." He then said, "I don't know why you would want that kind of feedback."

Of course, it was obvious this kid was pretty inexperienced in the ways of hooking up (he's just 24 years old) or that he doesn't know much about what goes into being a prepared bottom (after all, he messaged me on Grindr and said, "I want to play, but I'm on my way to work, so I have to come over right now if it's going to work," which didn't give me a lot of time to prepare to get fucked), and it was very obvious from his remarks about my appearance that he's pretty darn superficial, so I didn't take any of his feedback personally. I happen to know that I'm not everyone's cup of tea. I've got a little bit of a belly, I am bald... young shallow gay men typically resist such types of guys. So I get it. He's just 24 and superficial and I'm still hot. (It's interesting to note, however, that I was not thinner in the picture that I shared with him, and I told him so. I said, "That picture was taken one week ago. You saw what you wanted to see.")

Now I could have gotten all bent out of shape about what he said, but I had asked him for his feedback, and I'm glad to have gotten it. It was a little hurtful to read his words at first, but in the end I thanked him for his honesty and told him to "take care." Most people would want to curl up in a ball and cry themselves to sleep after hearing such harsh feedback, but I welcome it. I think if everyone were that honest with each other, the world would be a much better place. I mean, how does anybody expect to figure out what they are doing "wrong" if they don't get honest feedback from people who care enough about others to be honest with them? We don't have to agree with it (as I said, I happen to think I'm pretty darn hot, whether he thought so or not), but it's good to hear from others how we show up to them. What if everyone was brave enough to hear criticism and not take it personally? What would that be like, and how would people interact with each other in that kind of a world? I tend to think that we would have a lot more respect for each other if we were all honest with each other about our experiences of each other.

So this kid didn't think I was the hottest fuck he'd ever had. Oh well. That doesn't discount the experience I had with him. I still think it was very hot, and the video we shot is still one that I will want to look at and jerk off to in the future. I don't have to let his words bother me. In fact, I feel a little bit relieved now that I know the truth behind his vagueness. I hate thinking, "What did I do wrong?" It's good to know. I don't feel compelled to run to the gym and work out so I can be "hotter" to guys like him (heck, I don't even want to play with guys like him; shallow is not an attractive trait in anyone), but at least now I don't have to sit around wondering why he doesn't want to play again. It feels good to be informed. Call me crazy, but I think rejection can be a powerful tool of growth if you are confident enough in your own skin to hear it and take it in.