Rejection. We've all experienced it as creative artists in one form or the other -- an audition, a writing gig, a competition, graduate school, a spot in a dance ensemble. It hurts. It stings. The rejection is hard to take because we NAILED it. We gave it everything. We rehearsed, we practiced, we studied, we even sized up our competition and reminded ourselves of what not to do. Our past accolades gave us the confidence to push it even further.
And then, you see the words.
"Sorry, but we..."
"We regret to inform you that..."
"Unfortunately, the position..."
You read the words again just to make sure what you're seeing is real. You even look at the envelope to make sure it's addressed correctly. It is. They even spelled your name right.
But how could I have not gotten so-and-so? I was so RIGHT for it! You take it personally even though you've been here before. You question everything you did and said. And so it was for me yesterday when I was told that they had chosen someone else for the position I had interviewed twice for. It hurt. It stung. I really wanted it and knew I would thrive in the organization if given the chance. I cried all throughout the day, feeling unwanted and unloved. My heart was broken.
Of course, I've had my heart broken before. I'm a writer AND an actor. Rejection is a permanent part of my reality. Yet, that didn't matter. This was a new experience. But it was through the tears that I saw it. A series of notes that I had written down from something that I had seen on TV or the internet:
"You have to do three things to be successful: Create like a god, demand like a king and work like a slave."
"Once we stop taking risks, we've hampered our ability to innovate."
"Challenges can be solved."
And then I realized. My chapters are still being written. The evolution of "me" is still in progress. There's still much to do. Yes, I'm good but I'm far from the best. That is what rejection does. It makes you reevaluate and assess all your tools. It motivates you to try new things...and yes, to take even more risks. At the core, you know you have something. You can't give up. I live in L.A. after all. Competition is the name of the game.
The rejection yesterday also made me realize that I still want "it" -- the dream world where I am making my living as a writer and creating entertaining and thought-provoking stories that touch people's lives. For me, that is the golden ring. And so, I push on, knowing that there are new and exciting days ahead...that there will be other opportunities to "create like a god(dess)."