meant for you

“You were not selected.”

In a copy and paste email that epitomized the classic compliment sandwich, I was rejected.

I wanted this one really bad.

I day-dreamt about it for months. I visualized it daily. The people I would meet, the connections I would make, and the opportunities it would invite into my life were so real in my head.

I believed so much it was divine timing and meant for me.

It wasn’t.

The “no, not you” left me embarrassed for trying. Ashamed that my submission was not catchy or witty enough to attract the attention of those who mattered. Disappointed in my ability (or lack of) to pitch my idea. Hurt that my story wasn’t enough.

I immediately deleted the video I submitted. I deleted all of my phone notes with any remnants of my thoughts surrounding my application answers.

I wanted no proof, no reminder left behind.

But the doubt remained.

Are my instincts super off? Is my gut a liar? Can I trust my own intuition?

I believed this was a big step towards my calling, my purpose. Was I wrong? Am I not as gifted in this space as I thought?

Oof. The sting from a humility slap is like no other.

I got the rejection email while at dinner with the four people I love the most in this world.

Without my permission, the tears fell onto my fish and the table got quiet.

I’m a pharmacist by trade but a dreamer by design. I believe anything is possible and as opportunities present themselves, I take my shot at speaking gigs and writing platforms, commercials, shows and all kinds of things that I love and that give me opportunities to connect with others. Curating and creating fulfills an element of fun in my life that must be sought out and pursued with intention, and ultimately feels therapeutic.

Most times, I keep all of these ideas and potentials to myself. My children and even my husband don’t usually get privy to what I’m applying for because it is my way of protecting them. I don’t want anyone to feel “sorry for momma” or “sad for wifey” when she doesn’t get the gig or her article doesn’t get picked up. This omission is harmless because I handle a hard no pretty well. I’m a firm believer that rejection is most often protection of the highest order and onward we go.

But this time was different. It mattered more. It mattered a lot. So I brought them all along for the ride.

They knew my goal, how bad I wanted it, and even helped me craft my submission. I updated them on deadlines, dates, meetings and social media posts. They cheered me on every step of the way.

This was all done and shared with great intention.

I’ve been so mindful in recent months that my children need more life lessons about rejection, emotional regulation, and radical acceptance.

We spend so much time trying to teach our kids to be gracious in defeat. When they lose we yell out, “keep your head up” “you will get em’ next time” “this should motivate you to work harder” “life isn’t fair” and “it’s just a game”. This is all much easier said then done when you are totally crushed and have been given zero tools to just “get over it”.

So this time I knew that if I was selected, the victory shared would be that much sweeter and if I was rejected, it would be life’s invitation to teach my children how to handle disappointment and defeat without bitterness while staying emotionally grounded. As a mother, I’ve noticed that more than my children listen to me, they watch me. Although the responsibility is great, it is good and helpful for them to witness me navigate the world in all its injustice, disappointment and discomfort.

Our conversation went a little something like this…

—————

It takes bravery to put yourself out there for the world to judge and rank and choose.

You will do this over and over in your life and the outcome won’t always be what you expected, what you wanted, or even what you deserved.

When you play a game, when you audition for anything, when you fall in love, when you set a goal, when you share your passion publicly, when you create something new, when you are up for an award or fighting for a position, sometimes, you will lose.

It’s important to remember that every feeling you have before, during, and after is valid because it is yours. Don’t let anyone tell you any different.

No rejection should keep you from pursuing yourself and what makes you come alive.

No rejection should make you bitter and hateful.

No rejection is worth losing yourself.

It is so, so hard to not be chosen.

And there will be so many times in your life when you are not chosen.

You need to know that rejection will never, never come from me. I will always choose you every time, all the time.

Yes, I am sad and this is a tough one to get over. I wish it didn’t matter to me so much, but it does.

Being sad and crying and feeling disappointed does not mean that I am not grateful or aware of all the good in my life. It only means that I am human and that connects me and you even more.

Now let me tell you what mommy is going to do to feel better.

—————

So here is my DIY start-feeling-better-after-rejection guide all of which is research-based and will sit in my children’s mental health toolbox forever. Feel free to add one or all to yours.

– I made a list of the yes’s I’ve recently received and promised myself to give those my redirected attention and my best. There are three and it makes me smile just thinking about how fun they will be.

– I spent time chatting with a carefully selected friend who never shies away from the uncomfortable and would not be quick to console or compliment me but would listen to my madness and hysterics with patience and care. Community and connection is everything when you are hurting.

– I journaled about all of it. Much of what is here for you to read is in that journal entry but with the omission of some choice language and wild exaggeration which was the guest of honor at that short-lived but epic pity party. No one needs to read that, trust me but just know that narrative therapy has power, written or spoken.

– I set aside 10 minutes a day to let it burn.

This one requires a little more explanation. I have become an excellent student of grief over the last two years. One of the most impactful and effective practices I have found to keep grief from overwhelming me, is to schedule it.  It felt ridiculous at first, but the clinical evidence behind it is undeniable. Creating rituals and routines are so helpful for the brain, mind, and heart when you are grieving something big or small. The practice is as simple as it sounds. I give myself 10-15 minutes a day to be still and only think about my grief. In this case, my rejection.  Some prefer screaming into pillows but I tend to prefer quiet or music. So for 10 minutes I let myself visualize all I dreamed that the experience would be and let myself cry and be pissed off and sometimes sing out loud for 10 minutes of what I lovingly call, scheduled suffering.  This works so well because for most people grief is disorienting and sneaky which makes you feel as if you are at it’s mercy. Allocating time for the complex feelings and emotions that ride along with grief can bring about a sense of structure and predictability, which can be relieving to your fired up nervous system. When the timer goes off, I wipe my eyes, do a few rounds of box breathing (4 seconds inhale, 4 seconds exhale, etc.) and move on.

-I repeated my life mantra to my reflection every time I passed a mirror.

It took me 5 full days of this to feel relief.

For the past two years I have adopted a life mantra that has served me well and that I am clinging onto this week as I continue to question my calling and purpose.

What is meant for me, will not pass me.

Brave reader,
What is meant for you, will not pass you.

It can’t.
It won’t.
It doesn’t know how.

Always saving you a seat,

Lisa