When we start out as teenagers loving boys and hiding our crushes with blushing smiles, we're acutely sensitive to whether they like us back.  Teenagers can be cruel.  The most popular boy in school may not know that we exist, but that's better than confessing our feelings and hearing him laugh in our face.

As we grow older, we find out that our adult lovers may be more tactful, but their rejection doesn't hurt any less.  In my work with Save My Marriage Today!, I hear stories about partners who are trapped in a cycle of hurting one another, building walls of silence and indifference to defend themselves against the person who's supposed to be their ally in love.

None of us like to think about the painful consequences of loving someone.  But when we have feelings for someone, their critical opinion can wound us like no one else's.  Healthy relationships require us to understand our own reaction to such criticism.  We must learn to develop a healthy response to wounding words.  Otherwise, those rejections will carry over to future relationships and negatively impact our interactions with a loving man who doesn't understand why his casual remarks trigger such anger.

Recently I've been reading a novel by my favorite romance writer Nora Roberts, and one of her female characters illustrates this point perfectly.  In Suzanna's Surrender, the main character is a single mother who's been recently divorced from an ambitious corporate lawyer.  He constantly told her that she disappointed him and couldn't measure up to the other society wives.  She accepted the humiliation because of her love for him.  It took years – and his infidelity – before she could recognize what their marriage was doing to the children and her self-esteem, and escape.

We'd all like to believe that those experiences – if we're aware of them and how they've affected us – won't carry over into our future relationships, because we know enough not to make the same mistake again.  But they do.  We develop habitual patterns of reacting to abuse or rejection, and those instincts kick in whether or not they're merited.

In Roberts' novel, the main character learns to grow out of her past through the healing love of a man who shows her just how much he needs, wants, and admires her.  But not all of us are that lucky.

We don't leave the past behind every time we enter a new relationship.  Every new relationship is affected by the ghosts of past relationships – his and yours.

And, sadly, what sticks with us most about past relationships are often the parts we disliked or that hurt us the most. 

It's funny that I still remember the guy who told me that everything about me was perfect except for my personality.  Or the man who told me that I didn't look like a model, "you know."  Both were men I cared for deeply, and those critical comments stuck with me longer than all the loving compliments they'd given me.

If I review my relationship history, those incidents are anomalies.  Almost all of the men I have been with have been loving, complimentary, and appreciative.  But I can't remember any compliments as clearly as I remember those two criticisms.

I'm not unique.  Studies have shown that negative experiences are better remembered than positive experiences.  When an experience carries a strong emotional charge, we remember it more vividly.  When something someone says hurts us in a powerful way, it sticks in our memory in a way all the "I love you"s in the world can't.

So what do we do about it?

First of all, don't accept hurtful criticism or abuse in silence.  If you can tell your partner that you felt hurt by his comment in a calm, un-accusatory way, then there is the chance that the emotional impact of the situation can be defused.  A situation that started out with angry words might evolve into an honest discussion.  The key is to express how you feel with "I" statements rather than hurling "you" statements in self-defense (e.g., say "I felt hurt by your comment" rather than "YOU hurt me when YOU said that").

Second, if your feelings seem out of proportion to the situation, ask yourself whether you're responding to the particular person you're with, or whether a past experience is haunting you still.  Sometimes simply becoming aware that we're sensitive about an issue because a previous partner used to criticize us is enough take away its charge.

Finally, forgive yourself for not being perfect.  It's okay if you don't look like a model or aren't perfectly compatible with someone else's idea of the perfect woman.  You're you.  And that's all you need to be for the right man.

Back in November of last year, we solicited topics from our newsletter subscribers for a course on Advanced Techniques in Dating.  One of the surprises in the responses that poured in was that women wanted to know how to let guys down gently.

How do you tell a man you're not interested?

For men, any indication that you don't want to sleep with him is perceived as rejection … a rejection that hurts.  It is impossible to avoid.  We end up hurting men because even though we love their friendship, their company, and their spirit, we don't want to sleep with them.  No matter how much we love them in other ways, the way that matters most to them is physical.

When I was a child, I was quite a tomboy.  I was always playing with the boys.  As I grew older, I found that male companionship was much more complicated.  If you played with a boy, you were accused of "liking" him.  Hormones confused even the best male-female friendships.  By the time I reached my twenties, I found that men were capable of friendship only when they had no interest in sleeping with you.

When a man is truly interested in a woman, hearing "Let's just be friends" burns a wound in his heart.  By saying it, you want to communicate that you enjoy his company and value his friendship.  But in his ears, he hears you saying, "I don't find you sexually attractive."

When you tell a man that you love his company but want to stay friends, you are not complimenting him.  You are rejecting him.  Your words (though said in love) will make him feel self-doubt, because for him, the greatest gift he can give a woman is his sexuality—not his company.  When a woman accepts his company but rejects his sexuality, she is rejecting his essence as a man.

For a man, his sexual nature is principal part of his identity.  In fact, for many men, their sexuality is the most important part of their nature.  Being a good friend to a woman is not as satisfying as making love to her.  In fact, friendship with such a woman can be torturous because of the knowledge that he can be her friend but not sleep with her.

For his sake, let him down without using the word "friend."  Avoid saying ANYTHING like, "But I think of you as a friend" or "I really like you, but just as a friend."

Instead, when a man makes his move, try this tactic to let him down lightly.  "I'm flattered, but we're just not right for one another."  Or you might say simply, "No, but thank you for asking."  Avoid explaining the reasons behind your rejection.  He doesn't really want to know them.

Men are such wonderful creatures.  They risk rejection time and time again to ask women out.  The simple, sweet, honest ones often have the worst track record with women.  When we make it easy for them to pick up their ego after we've turned down their offer of sex, they'll keep their feeling of confidence long enough to ask another woman out.  That can only benefit all of us.

If you are feeling guilty about rejecting a man, then perhaps the following paragraph will speak to you.

"I wish that I was the right woman for all of the lovely men who have asked me out, but I wasn't.  They deserve to know that I am not the woman for them right away, so that they can continue looking for someone who WILL be right for them.  Turning down a man's genuine offer of a relationship can make me feel sad, because I value male company and companionship.  But ultimately, it is the best decision for us both."