Can’t handle rejection? You shouldn’t be dating, then
After a polite message from a man saying that he wasn’t ready to date went viral, Olivia Petter reflects on the nature of rejection – and how this incident doesn’t just show how scared we are of rejection, but lifts a lid on the hidden resentment it causes

There’s no good way to dump someone. But I wouldn’t recommend doing it via voicemail. Of all the rejections in my life, that one – courtesy of my first boyfriend, at the tender age of 13 – felt like a dagger to the face. I’d like to think I’ve got better at handling rejection since those early years – I know about empathy! I can process my emotions! I’ve been to therapy! – but, being honest, I’m not sure.
Being told “no” is still one of my least favourite things, whether it’s delivered by someone I’m dating, a friend, a family member, or literally anyone else I’ve ever spoken to. Thankfully, this week, I was delighted to learn that I’m not the only person who feels this way, particularly in the case of romantic rejection.
On Twitter/X, a woman shared a screenshot of a text from a man she’d been on a first date with after two weeks of messaging, in which he explained that he wasn’t ready to date. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” the message states. “I realised I’m not in a place where I want to date right now.” The texter goes on to paraphrase the usual platitudes: “This isn’t about you”, “You’re genuinely a great person”, and finally, “Dating just isn’t on my list of things to do rn [sic].” Furious, the woman shared the screenshot with the caption, “We met on HINGE btw”, accruing more than 6 million views and thousands of replies from people weighing in.
Many people, particularly other women who’d been burned by men they’d met on dating apps, were equally cross. “Literally then why go on a date then if dating was not something he wanted to do rn,” replied one user. “Hinge men are all the same,” vented another. “They’re always emotionally off or are not ready to date lmao, they just want to get relationship privileges without being official.”
However, the majority of users disagreed with the original poster. This seemed like a polite, rational, and kindly worded rejection, they argued. “Completely reasonable,” commented one person. “This is literally just a nice way to reject a person, which is common knowledge,” added another. “Ppl are allowed to reject you. If you can’t handle rejection, then don’t date.”

Knowing my history with rejection, I was surprised to find that I agreed with the latter camp. It’s a reasonable text. And while obviously it’s frustrating to learn that someone on a dating app isn’t ready to date, it seems like a kinder and more polite way of letting a person know that they aren’t interested in seeing them again. If it’s a choice between that and being told by a man that he didn’t find me attractive, smart, or interesting enough, I know which I’d pick. And I suspect it’s the same one a lot of other people would choose, too.
And yet, when faced with the softer option, so many of us refuse to accept it. I know that I’ve been incensed by similarly thoughtful rejections; messages in which the person has taken the time to list all the various positive aspects of our brief relationship, and let me know that their lack of interest has very little to do with any shortcomings on my side. It can feel condescending, and yes, “It’s not you, it’s me” is a cliché, but it’s certainly better than the reverse: pity the man who tells a woman, “It’s not me, it’s you.”
As for why none of us can handle rejection properly, I think it’s because we’ve all become increasingly siloed. Whether it’s dating apps or social media platforms, much of the content we consume is being dictated by algorithms that have been designed to reflect us back to ourselves. We’re all living in increasingly small cultural echo-chambers, where our ideologies and interests are only ever being reinforced instead of challenged. We’re the stars of the show. It’s easy to see why, in that mindset, being turned down in any capacity might be particularly hard to take.
Still, I wish I’d become a little better at handling it. Like many women, perhaps the thing I’ve mastered is not rejection but the art of concealing the rage and resentment that simmers beneath a palatable, people-pleasing surface. Now, that is something I’m good at.
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