If this isn't rejection, what else could it be?


What more could it be?

Beloved, I sit before you as humbly as I know-how. *clears throat*

Here me clear when I say I am a quitter.

At least, I Was…

I was a quitter.

One of those people that when the road got long, I, my friend, got going the other way.

I could go on about how it came to pass that I got that way, but what’s the point.

Because alas, I am in recovery.

Hold me tenderly saints, as I write this, I am contending with the urge to do something I’m all too familiar.

*eyes towel nervously*

That’s right. It’s Quitting time.

You see, I have been called a “late bloomer,” a “classic Gemini,” and much, much worse but what it always boils down to is people have a lot of opinions about me and what I’m doing… or not doing anymore.

Sometimes deep down, I’m just as curious.

What am I doing? What do I do?

I’ve been a server, a saleswoman of many things, a start-up founder, you name it, I’ve dabbled in it.

Well, right now, I’m pretty deep into doing something I’ve found that’s at the intersection of my talents and abilities, piques my curiosity, and has offered a reasonable enough challenge that my ego was intrigued… and yet I find myself hitting that familiar point.

With the help of my good therapy dollars at work, I’ve been able to identify the bridge I’m on, even as I consider jumping off of it.

Rejection.

I decided that I would finally take myself as seriously as I knew how, as a writer. I was guided to several ways that people have fed their children and provided a life doing so, and so, much like a settler eyeing gold, I set out…

I’ve had some incredible moments!

The first time I wrote something that made me cry.

The first time I put my work on the web or someone shared it. All that, now that has been good.

Yet, we are a few 00’s shy of the kind of promise I was holding out for.

Whether that’s ambitious or naive of me, it’s too soon to tell.

Like many copywriters early in their career, building a client base and creating authority for yourself in the space is in the first few steps. So is getting rejected.

And even as I write this, I’m both feeling the freedom of the cathartic release of hearing how frivolous that sounds out loud.

Was I going to jump ship because one person at one place said no thank you to a piece I’d written?

Fuck yeah, I was.

But maybe I didn’t have to. Perhaps I could… lean in.

As I sat in my car, sad music playing in the background… a thought hit me…

What if this wasn’t rejection?

It was. They said no.

Okay, but if it wasn’t… what else could it be?

It was around that moment that I decided to maximize the time that my nine-month-old was sleeping and queue up a professional development podcast,

“My career search was about progressively eliminating what I didn’t like.”, the voice speaking said.

That’s new, I thought. My dad took the first job he got and rode that hoe right on to retirement.

I’ve eliminated quite a bit, I laughed.

I felt good. I felt like I might be able to go on little ways more.

Perhaps, this was me gaining more information? Getting more clear about what I want, or how to get it, or maybe even what to do next.

That feels good. I exhaled and released the tension between my shoulder blades.

I do believe this is where people have said, “trust the process.”

If there is anything that will rile the spirit of a recovering control freak, it’s that.

I’m willing. I can, I reminded myself.

Here I am; I am not turning back. I’m all in. I’m a copywriter. That’s what I do. It’s a good fusion of who I’ve been all along, a persuasive big mouth with a flair for storytelling and overshares.

Am I afraid? Kind of… to not know and gracefully discovering along the way is a new practice for me… yet nothing I’ve ever tried to control has gone the way I planned it anyway, so here’s to try something new.

The more beyond rejection.