Have you ever walked into a room and immediately wondered what other people think of you? Perhaps you’ve replayed a conversation in your head long after it ended, analysing every word you said and searching for signs that you got something wrong. Maybe a friend takes longer than usual to reply to a message and your mind starts generating explanations about why they’re annoyed with you. Perhaps somebody seems a little distracted and you find yourself wondering whether you’ve upset them.
For some people these thoughts are occasional. For others, they form a constant background hum, shaping relationships, confidence and everyday interactions. Some of the clients I work with describe carrying a quiet assumption that people won’t like them. They don’t necessarily believe it all the time, but it’s there beneath the surface. A fear that if people really knew them, they would lose interest, pull away or reject them altogether. What’s striking is that this fear often exists even when there’s very little evidence to support it. People may have good friendships, supportive partners, loving families and positive feedback from colleagues, yet still find themselves expecting rejection.
The question is why.
LEARNING TO EXPECT REJECTION
None of us are born believing that we are unlikeable. Our understanding of ourselves develops through our relationships with other people. From childhood onwards we learn who we are through the messages we receive from parents, teachers, peers, partners and the wider culture around us. When those messages are largely affirming, we tend to develop a stable sense of worth and belonging. We learn that relationships can be safe and that we are acceptable as we are.
However, when acceptance feels conditional, inconsistent or absent, a different story can begin to emerge. Experiences of criticism, bullying, ridicule, neglect, exclusion or rejection can gradually shape how we see ourselves. Over time, we may stop viewing these experiences as things that happened to us and start seeing them as evidence of who we are. Rather than thinking, “I was bullied,” we begin thinking, “There must be something wrong with me.” Rather than recognising that somebody treated us badly, we start believing that we somehow deserved it.
As a gay man, I can recognise this process in my own life. Growing up, I experienced significant bullying at school. “Gay Gavin” became a nickname long before I was ready to understand what being gay might mean for my future. Looking back, I don’t think the deepest wound came from the bullying itself. It came from what I gradually started to believe about myself because of it. When negative messages are repeated often enough, they can begin to feel like facts rather than opinions. We stop questioning them and start building our identity around them.
People won’t like me is rarely a fact. More often, it’s a conclusion we learned from past experiences.
The difficulty is that these conclusions often become invisible. We don’t experience them as beliefs. We experience them as reality. Rather than thinking, “I learned this because of what happened to me,” we simply assume that other people see us in the same way we have come to see ourselves. By the time we reach adulthood, these assumptions can feel so familiar that we no longer notice they’re there. We simply experience them as common sense.
GROWING UP LGBTQ+ IN A WORLD THAT DOESN’T ALWAYS AFFIRM YOU
For many LGBTQ+ people, fears of rejection don’t develop in isolation. They are often shaped by growing up in environments where acceptance felt uncertain. Many of us received messages, either directly or indirectly, that being LGBTQ+ was something undesirable. Sometimes those messages came through bullying, discrimination or family attitudes. Sometimes they appeared through silence and invisibility. We noticed who was accepted and who wasn’t. We learned what was considered normal and what was considered different.
Long before many LGBTQ+ people come out, they are often learning to monitor their environment. They become skilled at reading the room, watching for signs of danger and adapting themselves to fit in. These adaptations can be incredibly effective survival strategies, but they can also create a lasting expectation that rejection is always a possibility.
As a gay man who grew up in the 1980s and 1990s, I can recognise this process in my own life. There were plenty of messages about who was acceptable and who wasn’t. Whether it was Section 28, the AIDS crisis, homophobic language in schools or the absence of positive LGBTQ+ representation, the message was often clear: being different came with consequences. Whilst society has changed significantly in many ways, those early experiences can leave psychological footprints that remain with us long into adulthood.
The result is that many LGBTQ+ people become experts in anticipating rejection. Unfortunately, when we spend years expecting rejection, we often start finding evidence for it everywhere, even when it isn’t actually there. The nervous system becomes focused on spotting danger, and once we’re looking for danger, the world can start appearing far more threatening than it really is.
WHEN PROTECTION BECOMES HYPERVIGILANCE
The human brain is remarkably good at learning from experience. If something has hurt us before, our nervous system wants to make sure we notice it quickly in the future. From an evolutionary perspective, this makes perfect sense. The problem is that the brain often struggles to distinguish between present reality and past experience.
As a result, many people become hypervigilant. They start paying close attention to facial expressions, tone of voice, body language and subtle changes in behaviour. A delayed text message feels significant. A distracted colleague seems annoyed. A friend cancelling plans becomes evidence that something is wrong.
Sometimes we’re not reacting to what’s happening now. We’re reacting to what happened before.
The mind starts filling in the gaps, not because it wants to make us miserable, but because it wants to keep us safe. From the brain’s perspective, assuming danger is often preferable to missing it altogether. The difficulty is that when we constantly scan for signs of rejection, we usually find them. Not because they’re actually there, but because our attention becomes focused on threat rather than connection. Old experiences become the lens through which we interpret present day relationships.
THE UMBRELLA OVER COMPLIMENTS
One of the things I’ve reflected on in my own life is how uncomfortable I used to feel receiving compliments. Looking back, I was far more comfortable hearing something critical than something kind. Criticism felt familiar. It reflected messages I had heard throughout childhood and adolescence. Compliments, however, felt difficult to absorb.
I often think of it like standing in the rain holding an umbrella. Every time somebody offered encouragement, kindness or affirmation, the umbrella would go up automatically. The positive words were there, but they never really landed. They bounced off and ran away before I had a chance to absorb them.
Many of us become so used to criticism that we hold an umbrella over compliments, letting them run off before they have a chance to sink in.
At the time I wasn’t aware I was doing it, but looking back I can see that positive feedback challenged a deeply held belief that I wasn’t quite good enough. Criticism reinforced the story I already believed. Compliments challenged it. Many people who struggle with rejection sensitivity describe something similar. They dismiss compliments as people being polite. They downplay positive feedback. They question whether others really mean what they’re saying. At the same time, criticism can feel instantly convincing because it confirms something they already fear might be true.
HOW THERAPY CAN HELP
One of the most painful aspects of expecting rejection is that it can begin shaping how we live our lives. We may avoid social situations, struggle to set boundaries, seek constant reassurance or hide parts of ourselves that we fear other people won’t accept. The fear of rejection can become more limiting than rejection itself.
Therapy offers an opportunity to step back and explore where these beliefs came from. Rather than simply trying to challenge negative thoughts, therapy allows us to understand the experiences that taught us to expect rejection in the first place. Often these fears didn’t appear out of nowhere. They developed for understandable reasons and frequently served an important protective function at the time.
As a therapist, I’m often less interested in whether a belief is true or false and more interested in where it came from. Human beings don’t wake up one morning and decide they are unlikeable. Those beliefs are usually learned through experience. They are often rooted in moments of shame, criticism, exclusion or loss that made perfect sense at the time.
Sometimes the goal isn’t to learn how to like yourself. It’s to understand why you learned not to.
The goal isn’t to blame the past. It’s to understand it. When we begin to recognise where our beliefs came from, we create space to question whether they still reflect our current reality. Understanding doesn’t change what happened, but it can change our relationship with it. Over time, therapy can help people recognise the difference between past experiences and present reality. It can help identify how shame, bullying, rejection, family dynamics, minority stress and social expectations continue to influence relationships in adulthood.
For LGBTQ+ people in particular, therapy can also provide something that may have been missing for much of their lives: a relationship where they don’t have to earn acceptance. A space where they can bring the parts of themselves they fear others won’t like and discover that those parts can be met with curiosity, compassion and understanding rather than judgement.
BUILDING A DIFFERENT RELATIONSHIP WITH YOURSELF
Healing doesn’t mean reaching a point where rejection never hurts. Human beings are wired for connection, and being rejected will always feel painful. The goal isn’t to stop caring what other people think altogether. The goal is to build a relationship with yourself that isn’t dependent on constant approval from others.
When that happens, something begins to shift. You become less focused on whether everybody likes you and more interested in whether the people around you are capable of offering the kind of relationships you deserve. Instead of constantly trying to earn acceptance, you begin to recognise that your worth was never dependent on it in the first place.
Your worth isn’t determined by whether everyone likes you. It never was.
If any of this resonates with you and you’d like support exploring it further, I offer LGBTQ+ affirming therapy both online and in person from my practice in Manchester city centre. You’re welcome to get in touch to arrange a free 15 minute introductory call.