Screw it all. lol. ok, I got that out of my system.
You officially SUCK! I never asked you to be my friend. I never asked you to be a part of my life. You are an unwanted, un-invited guest to a party that is too awesome for you. You show up when I’m finally out of a funk just to see if you can push me back in that hole. Well, rejection… You are not going to win. IN FACT! I reject YOU! bah! take that.
I hate you. Sincerely,
Rejection. It’s a necessary part of life, right? We all go through it, whether it’s rejection of our first love, or rejection from a job we thought should be ours, or even a friend who cuts themselves out of your life. I guess the real question is… Rejection, is it a requirement of a good story?
Unfortunately, I believe it is. I have a good friend named Steve who recently experienced a long period of unemployment. In his many months he collected an impressive stack of rejection letters. He kept each and every one of them with the hopes that they would inspire him. I’m afraid they did exactly the opposite. Just imagine looking at a stack of letters on your desk, each and every one of them saying you weren’t quite good enough… can you imagine that being inspiring? Yeh… me neither. But his collection proved something to me. He proved that each story needs a healthy dose of rejection, it’s how we deal with the rejection that truly defines how it’s written.
I’ve amassed my share of rejection letters. I have an entire e-mail folder of “inspiration” to look over if I ever want to see what I wasn’t quite good enough to obtain. I even have a few letters stuck in old journals from loves that I’d lost because of one reason or another.
One of my favorite rejection letters comes from the first boy I ever officially dated. Matt was a nice fellow, I suppose. Well, he was nice until I dumped him. A few weeks after I shattered his heart I came home from work to find a wrapped package in my mailbox. Sidenote: did you know it’s a federal offense to tamper with the mail system… such as putting mail that isn’t mail in some else’s mail box. Yeh, Matt committed a crime to deliver this beautifully wrapped take-home container from the restaurant where he worked.
After I got past how alarming it is to find a strange package in your mailbox, I unwrapped it only to find a collection of items from when we dated. On top of all of them was a hand written letter from Matt. To summarize: Laura, you WERE great, now you’re a terrible person and I hate you. Signed: your friend, Matt… nope, wait, that was crossed out. Then it said: Your used to be friend, Matt. Nope, wait ,that was crossed out too. It eventually ended with just his name.
I say all this not to embarrass Matt, but to explain how rejection is part of our story. I knew within a week of dating him that he wasn’t the man I would marry. Rejection by one of us was inevitable. It’s how we chose to handle the rejection that really mattered.
You can get angry, you can be hurtful, you can say things you will regret, decide to stop trying, yell, scream, cry, decide that you are not good enough OR you can do ALL OF THOSE THINGS and then realize that rejection is room for change.
I’ve been rejected a lot lately. Honestly, I’ve been calling these last 7 months The Rejection Months. The title isn’t really far from the truth. I’ve gone on more failed interviews than I can count. I’ve had horrible dates with men who are far from The One. I’ve lost opportunities that should have been mine. The phrase “good enough” is what all my nightmares revolve around. Will I ever be good enough? Will I ever be the one?
Yes. Yes, I will be. When I received another rejection letter today did I react in anger, tears, and self-hatred? Yes. Yes, I did.
Rejection and I are not friends, we never will be and chances are, I will usually react to rejection impulsively BUT I refuse to let rejection of any form define my self-worth. I’m too exhausted for that.
I haven’t been the right one yet. The right job candidate, the right girl to marry, the right person to save the world, but that doesn’t mean I never will be. That doesn’t mean you never will be. It just means it isn’t our time yet.
As I look rejection in the eyes tonight I keep repeating to myself… Laura, you are good enough. In fact, on a scale of 9-10 of how awesome you are, you are TOTALLY a 10… maybe an 11.