I’ve always had a lot of dreams, interests, passions—whatever you wish to call it. Probably
too many for my own good. One of my very first ones was… acting.
I wanted to play characters that would move people, the way I had been moved.
I dreamt of one day seeing my face on the big screen.
I would go on audition after audition. Study script after script.
Send in self-tape after self-tape. And I did get a few small jobs.
But more than anything, I got no’s. No, after no, after no, after no.
And, mind you, in acting, it’s often times not even a no, it’s just complete silence
until you start to figure out that enough time has passed so they must’ve moved on
without you. I got a few maybe’s, but those also eventually
turned into, well, silence, usually. It was a pretty suck-y feeling.
I would think I wasn’t pretty enough, not smart enough, not charming enough, not interesting
enough. Just not enough. And so eventually, I had had enough.
But unless you crawl into a boll in a cave somewhere and hide from life—abandoning
one dream won’t free you from rejection. Life has millions of ways of saying no.
Whether it’s you pitching an idea to an investor or asking someone out on a date,
or if it’s J K Rowling being rejected by 12 publishers, or Walt Disney being fired
by a newspaper editor because he lacked imagination and had no good ideas…
It happens to all of us. We chase, kiss and love. We ask, share, tell
and try, all in the risks of getting hurt. And sometimes, we do get really hurt.
So, why do we keep doing it? Why do we keep putting ourselves in situations, knowing that
we might get rejected, knowing that that rejection might haunt us?
Well, because, what the hell is the alternative? The alternative is nothing.
Nothing will happen. Any goal, ambition, wish, aim or dream you
have will all go to waste. Like a dead fish flowing along the stream—because
a life that’s held back by fear isn’t living, it’s mealy existing—and the thought
of that should scare you more than any risk of rejection ever could.
Sylvia Plath once said “I love my rejection slips. They show me I try”.
So, whenever I think back on the times when I’ve been rejected, whether that be socially,
romantically, professionally, any -y—I remind myself that I tried.
I recognize that every risk that I’ve ever taken has been me pushing my limits, it’s
been me aiming high, it’s been me stepping out of my comfort zone.
I could’ve avoided a lot of rejection by not pushing myself, by aiming low, by playing
it safe and by staying in my comfort zone. And perhaps it would’ve saved me some heartache.
But in exchange for that, I would have to give all the lessons, all the growth, all
the memories, all the people and all the stories that I’ve collected along the way.
That’s not an exchange that I’d ever be willing to make.
Now, rejection is still tough and I’m not trying to romanticize it.
But I’m learning to accept the fact that not everything in life is a match.
I mean, can you imagine a world where all human beings are suited for each other and
where everything just fits perfectly for everyone? Can you imagine a life where we wouldn’t
need to search and explore, where all the answers were right in front of us all the
time? Where everything we ever desired just fell right into our laps?
Isn’t the search what keeps life interesting? The search for answers, the search for what’s
right for us, love and the search for meaning? Not everything you desire will be meant for
you, nor will you be meant for everything you desire.
The job you didn’t get, the idea that got turned down, the friend that stopped reaching
out, the person who left you heartbroken—we tend to see it as them not wanting us, like
we weren’t good enough for them. And perhaps that’s true.
But more often than we know, that rejection saved us from something. That rejection redirected
us to some place better, perhaps a place we haven’t reached yet. It might be timing,
it might be skill, it might be for a reason we haven’t found yet.
I’m learning to trust that any rejection I face is the best thing that could happen
to me, because it’s forced me to stop and reflect on myself, and that’s where learning
happens; that’s where growth happens. So, as far as my acting journey goes.
Of course, it was painful. Of course, I still wonder what if sometimes.
But in trusting that rejection was necessary for me in order to grow; and in learning the
value of hard work; and in accepting that no’s are part of the process; and in being
grateful for every single opportunity that I’ve ever gotten, regardless of the outcome;
I get to live with less regrets. And for that reason; I would take that pain
any day. Because, again, what the hell is the alternative?