rejection is not fatal: how applying for and not getting a job gave me the perspective I need to bloom where I'm planted.

"We had an astonishing number of qualified applicants and I thoroughly reviewed each submission. Although your candidacy was impressive, the competition was intense; I regret to inform you that you were not selected as a finalist for the position."
[rejection letter, 2010]


Well, there it was...my first rejection letter in 20 years from the first job application in the same. My best friend has a theory that life really boils down to that Cheap Trick song, I Want You To Want Me. It's so true. I had all but formally pulled my materials from the application process, having decided that I didn't even want the job, but somehow seeing it in writing...the fact that I was not selected really hit me hard. NOT SELECTED. What? I wanted to be the one to say, "Thank you for thinking of me, but I've decided that I'm really better off and happiest right where I am." In the time it took me to gather my materials, craft my resume' and even seek out the special square paperclips I ordered to match the formatting that a brilliant friend of mine designed for my packet (it's a sickness, really, this detail thing), I came to the conclusion that in reality, the grass is not always greener. At one moment I asked myself if the situation were reversed and I was in that job and the one I have became available, would I apply. My answer to myself was a resounding "yes!" and that's all I needed to know. The truth, or rather Truth, is that my work life is ideal...a creative job with autonomy and supportive colleagues is something that I'm darned lucky to have and that there's value in the non-tangible things associated with it. Was I crazy to even think about going somewhere else? Yeppers, I think so.
But wait, there's more...I learned the final lesson when I was looking for an image to put with this post. In my search, I came across this image of a rejection letter from the Walt Disney Studios dated 1938 and realized that we have, indeed, come a long way, baby. I couldn't believe what I read there:

"Women do not do any of the creative work in connection with preparing the cartoons for the screen, as that work is performed entirely by young men.... The only work open to women consists of tracing the characters on clear celluloid sheets with Indian ink and filling in the tracings on the reverse side with paint according to directions." [rejection letter, 1938]

Hmmm...if this was 1938, I wouldn't have even been able to apply. Now in 2010, I can be rejected based on the contents, or lack thereof, of my resume' and not my gender. I am free to make the choice of where and how I want to work, without any thought as to whether or not I could gain access to the boy's club. It's unbelievable, really, to read the words and realize that some studio executive actually had the nerve to dictate that to the poor woman from the Steno pool who had to type it. What a time we live in...and what a time we've outgrown...which brings me back to the whole lesson that this has taught me, anyway. Rejection - the valid kind - is not fatal. The challenge is to find the lesson that lies within it.