The Rejection Muscle

I recently remarked to a friend that I had become inured to rejection. I claimed it didn't hurt anymore.

She remarked that it was either a good thing, because it meant any rejection I received wouldn't hurt me, or a bad thing, because it meant to reach this state, I'd probably been rejected a lot.

Both of us were reasonably correct.

I did lie a little bit when I said it didn't hurt anymore. (Yes, my bravado strikes again.) Rejection still hurts a bit, and sometimes, when rejection blocks me from something I really wanted, the ice cream I've been denying myself starts to look really good. But, on the other hand, it doesn't hurt nearly as much as it used to.

I have been rejected a lot. It's one of those things that happens when you're interested in theater and cannot act well, or you want a higher level position than you've previously worked, but don't have as many skills as others in the same field. Or, you know, when you attempt to publish a novel that's nowhere near ready, because your a publishing-world neophyte with an insatiable urge to act like a total noob.

But, I don't like to think of myself as much-rejected. I prefer to think of myself as possessing a highly toned muscle. A rejection muscle.

Getting rejected, especially if it's something you really want or is really important to you, often feels, in my humble opinion, rather like a sucker punch. Or, you know, a general beating in some slightly less specified capacity. But, then again, so does a hard core work out. It hurts, sometimes a lot, but it'll make you stronger for the next time around.

Hone the muscle with continued use (and we've all selected an industry where this muscle gets continued use) and exercising it won't hurt so much anymore. In any function.

How do you feel about rejection? Do you think it gets easier to handle with time?

Rejection

Last night, by which I mean the earliest hours of this morning, I was personally informed that my efforts to become a member of a certain society had failed. (By personally, I do mean in person. The Vice President and the Treasurer, whom I happen to know outside of the organization, came to tell me. I think they like to tell people personally to avoid the form rejection feel. Guess what, the personalized rejection does feel better than the form rejections.)

After my first wonderings, which was what they would have done if the person they were trying to reach were asleep -- not unlikely considering the hour, my next thoughts were that this didn't sting as much as older rejections used to. And I'm pretty sure that it's writing that's done it.

Before I started writing, I had issues with rejection. I covered, but I really didn't like it (who does, right?) and I used to do things that required auditions a lot, such as theater or choir (and I can't sing). Sometimes, just to prove I could take it, I'd set myself up for rejection instead of heeding self-preservational instinct. So people thought I didn't mind, but I did.

Then, I wrote a book. And I started querying it. Except it wasn't that good. And neither was the query. So rejection promptly followed.

But, after a while, it stopped stinging so much. I learned that it wasn't personal, that there are lots of factors going into every decision like that, and all I could do what put my best foot forward and see how it goes.

So, that's what I've been doing. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. But, when it doesn't, it hurts a hell of a lot less.

I'm glad I started writing.