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Let’s talk about rejection. Oof, it hurts, doesn’t it? And the worst part is that it can rear its ugly head in as many different ways as there are to tell someone you love them. Rejection comes in many forms, can be doled out by anyone, and can appear at any moment. There are no rules when it comes to rejection. It’s anarchy. Think back to the last time you felt personally rejected. Was it being dumped by a lover? A sexual advance rebuffed? A school saying nah, we’d prefer you don’t attend our institution? Your child pushing you away as you go in for a hug? A friend not inviting you to a party? These are all their own version of sad. I had a lot of rejections this week, varying in size and severity. Each one individually may not have made a dent, but compounded? I was left feeling a bit deflated. The biggest one was finding out I did not get a job I was pretty excited about. Since leaving my full-time job as a magazine fashion editor six years ago, and especially since becoming a mom, professional rejection hurts the most for me. I imagine it’s because it’s the very thing I’m most insecure about these days. Sure, I write essays here and there for some great media outlets, and yes I have this newsletter (which I’m proud of), and yes I still sometimes do a bit of freelance fashion work, and yes I run a very busy (and very booked) AirBnB for our family, BUT most of the time I still feel utterly unaccomplished. I wonder if this is what all freelancers feel like. I also wonder if this is what all SAHMs feel like. Or maybe this is what all writers feel like because we all have that horrendously ugly voice in our heads telling us how bad we are at what we do. Do you ever feel this way, too, or is it just me? It also doesn’t help that I’m a (recovering) people pleaser, and someone who derives all her self worth from the type of productivity you can actually cross off a list (like cooking and cleaning), or that you can actually see (like a paycheck or a promotion). Being a freelance writer unfortunately doesn’t fit into this mold, because the part you can see—a published piece of writing—is only a small piece of the productivity pie. Being a freelance writer, as far as I can tell so far, consists of a lot of reading and writing and pitching and more reading and trying to write and thinking about writing but not actually writing and then procrastinating writing. Oh and then some more reading. Even though I’ve wanted to be a writer for a long as I can remember, I cannot think of a job that’s a worse fit for my personality type. There is so much invisible work you can’t necessarily cross off a list or see or touch or point to and say “see I was productive today! look what I did!”. So in between bylines I mostly feel worthless. The worthlessness I think stems from having to put it all out there every day—the effort, the time, the words, the stories, the trauma—and getting mostly nothing in return. The rejection as a writer is relentless: it’s pitch emails that go unreturned, it’s essays that never find a home, it’s editors that don’t give feedback, it’s never really knowing if anyone even reads your work. And whether they like your work or not is a whole separate fresh hell of the mind. To be a writer is to be perpetually rejected, I think. And if I really think about it the same is true for being a mom. The invisible workload of being a mom (or a primary caregiver) is huge, ever-growing, ever-changing, and often can’t be seen or felt or crossed off a list. The rejection is also never ending. On any given day my kid rejects clothes, food, activities, rules, questions, hugs, instructions, you name it. She rejects me a million times a day in a million different ways. But thankfully I’m getting better at thickening up my mom skin. My writer skin? Not so much. Being a mom and a writer are both thankless, rejection-filled jobs in their own way. And they are both the best and worst jobs I’ve ever had. I love being a mother, but hate being a mom. The day to day grind of teaching a little person how to be a decent human being (get your finger out of your nose! no you can’t eat the food in your bowl like a dog! put your tongue away, we don’t lick each other!) is harder than the hardest thing that ever existed. And I love being a writer but I hate sitting down to write. I hate having deadlines looming over my head but love the thrill of seeing my byline in black and white print. It makes me think of a quote my journalism college professor once shared with me: “I hate writing, but I love having written” and damn is that the truth. As I close out this newsletter I will leave you with another quote. This one from author/writer Awaeke Emezi who said, “one of the things I’ve learned is that…rejections are like doors that close because there’s a path somewhere else that I’m meant to be on”. So my older sister-ly advice to you is, let’s all try to focus on the other path, the somewhere else, and not on the closed door.
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