How to handle rejection
They are allowed to have their opinions. And you are allowed to not care about their opinions.
Hey Lisa,
If I could ask a question - how do you handle rejection? Any advice there is much appreciated.
It can be hard to keep the candle going.
This email was from a screenwriter who was struggling with the realities of that industry. It’s such an uncomfortable topic that I wanted to dodge it - rejection? Who, me? Why, I’ve never experienced such a thing, it sounds just dreadful! I’ll ask around and see how other people have managed to survive it, and I’ll report back.
But of course, I’ve been rejected because that’s an essential human experience. In fact, it’s vital that we get rejected. Have you ever met someone who has never been rejected? Someone who has never been heartbroken? Someone who has never been told, “I understand that this is something you want with your entire soul and you feel like you can not breathe in and out without this thing, but…just…no. Absolutely not.”
People who have never been rejected are intolerable. They are entitled and lack empathy and they smell weird. I made that up but I bet it’s kind of true.
I grew up working as an actor in the film industry, which is filled with rejection. Then I jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire and became a writer, which doubles down on the rejection but at least it’s based on your talent and not your bra size. (But now that I say it, I think maybe that’s actually worse.)
And then there was the time I was sitting in my driveway, sobbing as the man I thought would be my forever, put his Volvo station wagon in reverse and drove away from my house. I remember being told that the acting job I desperately wanted was going to someone blonde. I remember reading reviews that slammed my books, into which I had poured my heart and soul. I remember being ghosted by someone I thought was a dear friend. Those moments sting, even decades later, causing me to squint and bury my head in my shoulder.
But if I had never known loss, heartache, betrayal, disappointment, rejection, how could I ever have compassion for anyone else in those same essential human conditions? How would I connect or relate?
Experiencing rejection is how we learn resilience. That’s how we know that we can pick ourselves up off the ground when we stumble. We learn that the world was not created to ensure that we have an easy time, filled with doors that automatically open when are carrying seventeen packages. More often, we have to do the awkward thing where we try to open the heavy door with our elbow and our ass without dropping everything that is precious to us.
Since life is so often awkward and challenging, we might as well get used to it. And we should remember to hold the door for other people, so they don’t need to use their ass and elbow.
Several years ago, I was in a yoga class with my favorite yoga teacher. I called this woman the “Yoga Angel.” Her class was perfection. I floated around for forty-eight hours after merely being in her presence. But one day, I was in a Yoga Angel class next to a woman who was essentially having a temper tantrum on the mat. She was sighing loudly with her whole body. She rolled her eyes and flapped her arms, completely exasperated whenever my Yoga Angel spoke. Halfway through the class, she rolled up her mat and stormed out. I remember thinking, if not everyone likes an actual angel of yoga — what chance could I ever have?
Not everyone will like everyone and everything - and that’s okay. They are allowed to have their opinions. And you are allowed to not care about their opinions. Here’s a fun little experiment: go to Goodreads and click on your favorite book. Then read all the one-star reviews.
Recently, I was approached about a project. Like, a dream project. With a dream collaborator. (I was going to be all cagey about it but it was NPR.) There were emails and conversations and they kept saying how excited and thrilled they were and I was like, okay, I can die now. And then. Nothing. Just nothing. It just fizzled. I was devastated.
I doubted everything about myself. Did I say the wrong thing? Did I just suck at my job? Why did they not want me? I was disappointed and ashamed. And there was just really no answer about what happened. It just. Didn’t happen.
So here is the process I went through to deal with rejection:
Feel it. Just sit there and feel how awful it feels. Let it wash over you. Be with the feelings that you’re not good enough, that you failed, that you’ll never be loved, that you are destined for absolutely nothing but more rejection, more hurt, more pain, more disappointment. Don’t try to push it down, deny it, or say you should be over it by now - just let it be there. (This part is awful but I promise we’re not going to live here forever. You can handle this, it’s just feelings.)
Where do you feel that suffering in your body? Is it in your belly? Throat? Shoulders? Jaw? Identify where rejection lives. Place your hands there. Breathe. See if you can let that part of the body soften just 3% more.
Dive into compassion. Switch your inner narrative from one of a mean schoolyard bully to one of compassion. How would you talk to a friend about this? If you can, write this stuff down, so you can revisit it when you need that cheerleading support. Maybe something like:
Wow, this really sucks and it hurts really badly but eventually someday like 37 years from now, it’ll feel more okay.
I’ve had bad stuff happen before and I survived that, so I’ll get through this one, too.
I wish this was different, but I don’t get to have control of this one. So I’ll find a new path.
Rejection is painful, but I don’t need to feel shame here, this is a very common human thing.
If you have someone who you feel safe sharing with, tell them what you are experiencing. For many of us, rejection turns quickly to shame. We don’t want anyone to know. We want to bury it and hide it because we worry it’ll turn into a rejection avalanche. Oh, did you hear Lisa got rejected? Maybe we should reject her, too? It seems to be the cool thing to do. But rejection isn’t contagious. Shame shrivels in sunlight. So share the disappointment with someone who can offer support. Then accept that support. When they say, “that person sucked, anyway” or “you’ll find a better job” or “ugh, I had something similar happen to me and it feels completely miserable” allow that bit of kindness in. Being able to accept compassion is just as important as being able to give it away. In fact, it’s essential to be able to accept compassion if you are going to offer it judgment-free to someone else. Otherwise, it always comes with a stigma attached.
Get out of your head and look for other sources of joy. Walk rescue pups. Take a bath. Mail a birthday card. Do a crossword. Volunteer. Watch 90s romcoms. Find some way to remind yourself that joy still exists.
Culturally, we love the stories of win. But we tend to gloss over the fourteen times it tanked on the way to success. Those fourteen times are way more interesting, important, and character-building than the time it went well. If your life has been easy, I’m going to guess that you’re not actually very interesting.
Most importantly: rejection means you were brave. You took a chance on something that was not guaranteed. You got out of your bubble and you actually lived your damn life. Rejection means you lived from a place of courage. I see this with folks who are too scared to share their artistic work, whether that’s painting or writing or music, because of a fear of rejection.
I find it scarier to live a life that is stagnant. A life with no risk might feel safe, but in reality, it’s letting the fear win.
So go out and get your ego bashed a little. Fall on your face. Get back up. Not only will you survive that, but you’ll also learn just how resilient you are.
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