“So, we’re both single, we vibe, we’ve been friends for a while, you’re actually good-looking and fun to talk to, so why don’t we date?”
I dropped the question with all the fake calm I could muster.
At 19, I thought I had steeze. (That’s Nigerian slang for style + ease, by the way.)
She looked at me with this soft sadness and said, “I agree… but we can’t. You weren’t the only one I was talking to. Someone else already asked me out, and I said yes. I really fancy him. But we can still be friends. I don’t want to lose our close bond.”
Translation: You’re not that guy, pal.
I nodded, still trying to hold my steeze while my insides folded like a dying star.
“No worries. I wish you both the best. And yeah, we can still be friends,” I replied.
Lie.
Big, fat, steaming one.
What I meant was: Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.
We hugged, and as her arms wrapped around me, all I could think was, "Welp! That was fun while it lasted".
We didn’t stay friends. Not even close, and I didn’t pretend to try.
Because I saw it for what it was...
A polite rejection.
Now, if I were one of those emotionally constipated, internet-fueled, pseudo-alpha red-pill bros, I’d have blamed her.
Called her a hypocrite.
Claimed I got friend-zoned by someone who’d regret it in her 30s.
Spun the whole thing so I could paint myself as the victim.
But I didn’t.
Because even back then, I knew something most people never learn:
Rejection is realignment.
Just because someone doesn’t choose you doesn’t mean you’re not valuable. It just means they’re not your match.
If they don’t see your value, that’s not a flaw, it's feedback.
It’s like trying to sell a rare vintage Benz inside a Rolex store.
They’ll look at you like you’re crazy.
And if they do make an offer, it’ll be so low it feels personal.
Not because the car’s worthless, but because it doesn’t belong there.
Wrong store.
Wrong buyer.
Wrong context.
Now take that same Benz to the shop of a vintage car collector and watch that seven-figure cheque clear.
Dating works the same way.
You could be rare, powerful, and deeply valuable, but if the person in front of you is looking for something you aren’t built to give, they won’t see you.
That’s not rejection. That’s misalignment.
Most people don’t know how to interpret this correctly, so they spiral.
They chase, beg, guilt-trip, shrink and over-perform.
All in the desperate hope of being chosen.
And even when they are, they only get crumbs, which eventually convinces them that love must be earned, not experienced.
That’s how people lose their dignity, self-worth and identity.
That will not be your story.
Because you’re here now, and we do things differently in this community.
If someone doesn’t choose you, you choose yourself harder.
You stand taller.
You walk straighter.
You realign faster.
You don’t chase, you don’t convince, and you don’t audition.
You treat rejection for what it is: feedback, not failure.
A divine push toward the right person, place, path and future for you.
So when the next "no" comes—and it will—remember that it’s not a verdict but a redirect.
Your worth hasn’t changed, and it never will.
This is the mindset behind Compatibility-first dating.
It’s the approach I teach every client using my 3Cs Framework: Chemistry, Compatibility, Connection, in that order.
You don’t crumble when someone passes on you.
You filter better.
You align better.
You move smarter and hold your value like it’s not up for auction or negotiation.
You let rejection refine you, shape you and guide you until you walk into the room where you're not just seen but chosen without begging, bargaining, or breaking yourself in half.
P.S. If rejection has ever left you questioning your worth, doubting your standards, or shrinking just to be picked, don’t stay stuck in that fucked up cycle.
It will help you define and apply your non-negotiable dating criteria so you stop settling and stop self-sabotaging.
Because once you start filtering better, you immediately start choosing better and getting chosen by better.
See you next Sunday.