Something’s terribly wrong. I came up with five different blog ideas last night. This is WAY outside my usual idea parameters.
I’ve been getting a healthy dose of rejection, lately. I am fortunate in that rejection never really bothers me. I recall being thirteen and telling my mother that I wanted to act. She told me I would face numerous rejections, and feared I wouldn’t be able to handle it, which I guess is a legitimate worry for some people. I, however, have never been really hurt by a rejection. I would audition, and I wouldn’t get it, and I would move on with my life. Perhaps because I know I’m not an ingénue, and so I can totally understand the concept of not being right for a part. Also, I have been on the other side of the casting process, and am well aware that rejection has more to do with what part they are trying to cast versus what you are bringing to the table. I have seen seasoned and talented people get passed over for a newcomer just because they had that intangible thing that the role needed. So, I guess, I just always understood rejection as a natural part of life.
Another rejection that I dealt with a lot when I was younger was romantic rejections. Again, I am not your average chick, so there have been a healthy number of dudes who were just not interested, and that’s fine. Most of the guys I had crushes on ended up being dear and loyal friends, and now when I look back on them I can’t imagine what I was thinking in the moment. Not that they aren’t great men, they just aren’t for me like I wasn’t for them. Yes, in my youth I would be sad for a moment, but I still understood this basic principle.
Now I face literary rejection. I had some lovely beginners’ luck when I started sending out my poetry and such, but that time has passed and we are now in the season of rejections. Nearly every day this week, in fact. This morning I received a lovely rejection. They specifically mentioned one of my poems, saying that they liked it very much but could not publish it at this time. They added that they would like me to submit again in the future, and that they don’t always say that in their responses. These kinds of rejections are the best, and I have gotten a couple. They encourage me to keep working, and remind me that just because something isn’t a good fit doesn’t mean it’s not good. In fact, I treasure my rejections now, because they make the acceptances sparkle.
I don’t know why I deal with rejection so well. I assume it has to do with my ridiculously high self-esteem. I’m not even sure what kind of advice I can give to help deal with rejection, aside from telling yourself that it isn’t always you; in fact, it’s probably not you at all. A lot of our rejections are simply because our poems don’t fulfill the issues theme, or your heart doesn’t match his, or we don’t fill the role that needs to be cast. It has less to do with you and more to do with the situation. At least, that’s what I’ve found, and I’ve been dancing with rejection for a long time. Sometimes it just steps on your toes.