Description:
"We regret that we are unable to offer you admission at this time.”
“I really see our relationship as more of a friendly one. Pal.”
“There are better candidates for this job. Thank you for your interest.”
Rejection stinks. As in, it almost literally has a smell: the aroma of dashed dreams and curtailed crushes. It’s not pleasant, and it lingers. And whether you’re rich or poor, handsome or homely, fortunate or persistently unlucky, we have one thing in common: we’ve all caught a whiff.
No matter who you are, from Moses to Barack Obama, you've been rejected for something in your life. Turned down. Denied. Do not cross Go, and definitely don’t collect $200. Getting shot down is arguably the largest blow that happens to your ego; it's a big “return to sender” from the entire world -- unsigned, unsealed, undelivered. Sometimes you don't even get an explanation: you're simply stood up, or told to pack your things and be escorted out. Maybe you never hear a peep about the entries you expectantly send to the New Yorker cartoon caption contest each week (which chronically happens to, uh, my friend).
The toughest part about rejection is that it makes you feel unseen. The editor doesn’t want to read your manuscript. Your bank doesn’t care how badly you need that loan. It's the aching knowledge that that cute guy or girl has looked you up and down, taken full stock of your brains and talents and personality, and said, “Hmmm. I think I’ll pass.”
If rejection is God’s protection, as countless Christians have told me, then I must be the safest person in the universe. In the past year, I’ve gone from graduating with an Ivy League degree and dating a cluster of cute guys to being stuck in my ho-hum job and eating frozen pizza on Friday nights. And not for lack of trying. But at some point after receiving that first layoff, the seventh rejection letter, and that 250th unreturned email, the “no’s” start to get to you.
So one night, as I was wallowing in my sorrows with a pint of Haagen-Daz, I felt God’s presence: “Hey there, bitter, party of one. Why don’t you stop whining about your rejection and start making other people feel accepted?”
“No, God,” I thought, swirling another heaping spoonful of chocolate chunk, “I’m not doing anything for you until you start doing something for me. You refuse to give me a boyfriend, and you refuse to let me into the Ph.D. program I want. Thank you, but no.”
“So to make yourself feel better about your own rejection, you’re going to reject the world? Crawl into your ice cream carton and wait for all the wonders of life to be delivered into your lap? Passive-aggressive much?”
“Wow, God, that was pretty snarky. You should start a blog.”
“I did. 2000 years ago. Read the post ‘2 Corinthians.’ That’ll teach you to feel sorry for yourself. Paul was crippled and imprisoned, but you didn’t see him sending out pity party Twitter updates.”
“Seriously, have you seen the show ‘Best Week Ever’? They’d totally hire you.”
“No, I gave up on Vh-1 a long time ago. What happened to music videos? Anyway, my child, you might feel rejected now, but years in the future, you’ll see that all those jobs and dates and programs were rejecting you for a reason. Not because you weren’t good enough or smart enough, but because it wasn’t my plan, and it wasn’t my timing.”
“I’ve heard that a million times, God. ‘You’ll find love when you’re not looking for it.’ ‘God has better plans for you.’ ‘When Jesus shuts a door, he opens a window.’ But how does that help me now? I’ve been ‘not looking’ for love since college, and Mr. Right still hasn’t fallen magically from the ether. Everyone else seems to have what they want, so why not me?”
“Nobody starts out on top. The CEO started as the intern. The homeowner began adulthood in a studio apartment on the rough side of town. The soul mates often fought through a string of sour relationships before they met. While my will for some is clear, others hit speed bumps and detours and trying times along the way. But each foggy patch is building your character, your confidence, your faith. There’s no right job or right decision that will land you at the end of the rainbow, because there is no end of the rainbow. Just the knowledge that I’ll never forsake you in the journey.”
And with that, I'm deciding to stop taking rejection personally; to not over-idealize some career or some marriage in the future, but to enjoy what I have and where I am in the present. Fear of rejection keeps me and millions of people from acting, paralyzing us with the irrational belief that others' reactions and approval are the driving force in life. We are over-dependent on human affirmation, and so we don't take risks. We wallow in our comfort zones, decline invitations and ignore those opportunities that float our way, because we're too lazy. Or too afraid.
Life is too short to waste time daydreaming about what your life could look like some day. So what if you don’t have a date? Go out with your girlfriends for the millionth time. Be glad that you have a job, even if it’s not your dream career, and if you’re unemployed, keep searching and get creative about it. Send your article to the next publisher on your list. Try out that Bible study or that singles group.
I've felt the sting--well, multiple stings--of rejection, and I've experienced the depression that comes with it. But what I need to do is not let getting rejected lead to rejecting future opportunities. If you want to reject something, reject apathy. Reject the idea that life is all about you. Reject being too absorbed in your own travails to see that others are hurting. You may not have the power to control who rejects you, but what you do have is the ability to make others feel loved and accepted for who they are.
The only thing worse than getting rejected is never having tried in the first place. Now turn off Vh-1.
