With these words, I offer you perspective, not solutions; I offer hope, not answers.
Rejection hurts; there is no question about that. Even though I know that I state the obvious, rejection hurts the most when you make yourself vulnerable by proposing your ideas, your expertise, and even yourself in the professional sense.
This fact is part of the deal; when you put yourself ‘out there’, you risk getting hurt.
These last few days have been the proverbial emotional rollercoaster for many of my social media friends and acquaintances. It is the time of receiving the news about admission or, yes, about rejection, to graduate and professional schools, and residencies to medical graduates. And since I care about people, some of the joy or despair that comes from said news rubs a little upon me.
At the same time, I feel parental and fraternal pride towards those who got ‘bad news’ but who are nonetheless happy for the achievements of their peers or act as de facto cheerleaders for those who may be sad. To those selfless souls, I say: I am proud of you, and I know how you feel.
I recently received a rejection that hurt a lot, more than I’d like to admit. I will not elaborate except to say that over the years, I have learned that the best path to follow in such cases is to pause, to not react, to reflect when I am ready to, to pick myself up, and keep trying.
And this is precisely what I intend to do.
For now, I want to give you two examples from my professional life that partially illustrate why I think that rejection can genuinely guide us to something that may be a better fit for us, even though we do not see it at the time.
Those of you who know me know that I was a non-traditional student. I went for my PhD at 35, way later than most. I needed to apply in a couple of cycles because when I applied to PhD schools for the first time, I was rejected, which devastated me at the time for a series of reasons that are not important now.
Looking back, this was a blessed rejection.
My point is that the second time I applied, I applied to a school that I had little hope of getting in, a school that was not even on my radar the first time around.
Cornell admitted me, making one of my wildest dreams a reality.
The second example of a professional ‘blessed rejection’ is when I began applying to faculty positions after finishing my doctorate in 2005. At 40 years old and raising a family, I didn’t want to do a postdoc; I wanted a permanent job. So I applied to places putting myself ‘out there’. I sent five job applications.
*As I write these words in 2022, I’m still waiting to hear from two of those places.
*Two places said “Thanks, but no thanks”. That’s fair; at least they told me!
*The fifth place I applied to, West Chester University, decided that I was a good fit. And I have been there ever since.
Now I am a full professor of biology at WCU; there I have the privilege to teach minds that thirst for knowledge, I have the liberty of pursuing my research—which has resulted in a consistent publication record—I have three books under my belt, and I feel that I am just starting.
I do not know if reading about my experience will help you. I hope it does, if only to give you some hope.
I cannot guarantee you success, And make no mistake a, ‘blessed rejection’ feels like a regular, stinky rejection. The ‘blessed’ nature of it may be apparent later, sometimes much later.
I offer you my ear if you need to vent (rant, swear, all of the above), an encouraging word to help you rise back up, and a virtual hug to make you feel at least a little better.
Things can work out for you. I sincerely hope so.
For now, I leave you with the thought that I would like to think that my most recent rejection is a ‘blessed rejection’. Perhaps I will tell you about this story some other day.
Please keep in touch!
~Oné
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Picture credit: Baldscientist
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