The Beauty of Rejection & the Following Sulk

Dear Reader,

What word has shaped your humanity with exquisite detail?

Words are so incredibly powerful. We want to hope they are not. We want to believe that when someone chooses words that are not supportive, or cruel, it will not hurt us. We want to trust that our internal strength is greater than casual consonants and vowels flung from another human’s mouth or phone. We want to hope that our external armor is stronger than the pierce of the alphabet strung together in cleverly threaded spaces and punctuation.

And yet…..in my own life, the word “no” has sculpted me like the hands of Michaelangelo.

Rejection is quite painful. It has this superb ability to steal my breath. I can feel its weight, like an elephant sitting on my chest for a bit, unsure if it wants to move with the herd… or not.

Nothing breaks the human heart like rejection, and it is quite a sledgehammer.

When I choose to become invested in something—a job, a project, a relationship, a fitness goal, or anything in my life—I intentionally shift attention from certain areas of my life towards others, methodical redirection.

How can I best use my internal and external resources to achieve my desired goal? I leave nothing on the table.

Despite all of this, I was rejected for something I worked very hard for.

I know many people will immediately respond to this, something which is reminiscent of "not letting it get me down” and “don’t take it personal.” I appreciate the sentiment, and I disagree with the immediate steps forward. The passing over of my innate feelings never sits well with me.

I believe that rejection is personal. It certainly feels that way. And why shouldn’t I take it personally? Was I not the one rejected? Regardless of the reasoning behind the decision, I was the one told, “No, you are not the one.”

You see, sometimes…we can do everything we can, the best we possibly can, and it still won’t be enough. That is incredibly difficult to navigate emotionally.

No. A word that is so very heavy. We want to believe that if we are the best… if we do the best job… if we execute flawlessly….it will be enough.

If you watch a toddler being told no, it is reminiscent of the fall of Babylon. Their entire world crumbles. Bodies hit the floor. Tears fall and create a river of destitution. Many adults treat these reactions so callously and casually. I have been told and heard others share this nugget, “Get used to it. The world is a tough place.”

I agree. The world is a tough place, and the world we live in is not the world we deserve. Does this mean that we must treat others with casual disregard? Should we spend less time choosing our words than we do our coffee blends and milk bases for our drinks?

I have chosen not to raise my daughters with the mantras of “you can be and do anything you want to” or “you can do whatever you set your mind to” … because I don’t believe this is true.

There is the world we deserve. There is the world we live in. They are not the same. Not in my experience. Not from my lenses.

I grapple with some people calling me a positive person, while at the same time, some people call me a negative person. In my mind, I live in my reality. Life is not black and white, not even gray. Life is a multitude of colors. Every day offers a rainbow of emotions, experiences, and observations for me. I rarely see something as good or bad, as the complexity of decisions, situations, and intent versus impact is sometimes unknowable---so how I can judge anything?

Rejection is a complex subject for me. It is easier to try to gloss over the feelings and thoughts that can come with a no. They can be painful if truly examined. An elephant of rejection takes time to move from one’s chest, and this is where the beauty lies.

My first step in moving through rejection is a good sulk. I emphasize through. Not over. Not around. Not a hopscotch. Not a jump. Not a sidewind. Not a 6th grade, lunchroom total ignore. The only way out is through.

I even toss myself face down on my bed a few times for good measure.

I know Rocky Balboa would not encourage my sulking, and for once I must let my Hero down. Sulking is such a divine release for me. Much like a toddler experiencing a no, a sulk lets me (just for a moment) meet my rejection in its full form and embrace how terrible it really feels. It is a release as a way forward.

Rejection is a part of life. Moving through it, not around it, has allowed me to become more emotionally versatile, and a sulk after rejection allows me space to process the feelings.

The beauty of rejection is that within this process is humility and growth, if we can face the pain of the experience and move through it.

The beauty of rejection lies within the emotional intelligence waiting for us when we can process the experience in a full form.

The beauty of rejection is that our world is full of the word no. So many people negate rejection by flippantly disregarding it. Rejection offers self-discovery and growth if we are brave enough.

The beauty of being rejected is that we only need one yes. The world is full of nos. often, we only need one yes. The power of a yes after a multitude of rejections is brilliantly overwhelming.

Warmly,

A Woman Who Waited A Lifetime for One Yes