So today, I received my first rejection letter. One of many, I reckon. No, not for any book writing – that is nowhere near ready but for some work that I’ve been doing.
I can’t pretend I’m not disappointed. I am. The first feeling is disappointment, a little crushing feeling inside my heart. After that it’s anger. Like of course, no one trusts you. If only you’re some big hot shot, people only look at hot shots. Even if the hot shots aren’t good. And then you question yourself, like why aren’t you a hot shot? Why haven’t you become a hotshot yet? Are you some sort non-performing twenty-something non-hot shot? And then that crushing disappointment returns coupled with another taste of humble pie. You can’t help but feel sorry for yourself. You feel really small. And then you question if this was the right way to go forward.
And then you eat something indulgent. My friend S, eats pink cupcakes. I drink coffee. Whole milk please, nothing of that skimmed milk nonsense.
And then you get over it. I usually say, “Meh.”
Ever since I’ve decided to go on my own, I’m getting better at rejections. Gotta develop a thick skin for it, especially since before, it was easier to do any sort of business when you are backed by a fancy company. Not so when you’re just little old you.
I wish I could say rejections get easier with time, but they don’t. However, the recovery time is a lot faster. I don’t pretend that I’m not disappointed. I’ve done that before and it sort of boils together and I get into an argument, usually with the husband about dishes and then I end up bursting into tears screaming, “This damn plates are a lot like that time when so-and-so told me that I’m not good enough to go on my own.”
Boyfriends, husbands, listen up. It’s never about the damned dishes.
In this case, I’m thinking of how to go forward. The temptation to mope and lie down is there and each time this happens, it makes me want to give up a little. And then I think of some of my friends who have been working very hard to pursue their more noble dreams. And when I mean dreams, I don’t mean material wealth. I mean dreams like working towards a finance job that helps build roads and schools in poor countries. Or becoming a surgeon so that they can go on to volunteer in countries in Africa.
And I remind myself, whatever I’m doing, these are one of the many challenges that I will come across in pursuit of happiness.
So yes, I’m disappointed. But I’ll just make a cup of coffee. I keep myself busy. And then I move on.