Just The Beginning.
We need to talk...
There are few words strung together I fear more than this. Well, except:
We regret to inform you..
Unfortunately, I had the unpleasantness of reading the latter just the other day.
See, I had recently applied to a local “shark tank” competition my small town of Soldonta put on. With the mission of “promoting responsible growth for Greater Soldotna”, I was over the moon at the opportunity to unearth my 10+ year dream of publishing my own magazine and share my idea with those who could potentially offer support, guidance, encouragement, and resources to help make that dream a reality.
It didn’t even matter what stage the idea was in: only that you had one.
Which I most certainly did.
After submitting it, I waited: patiently, during the painstakingly long time it took to hear back.
Then one afternoon, the email came, and those dispiriting words of rejection confirmed my deepest darkest insecurity: that I wasn’t good enough.
Course, being the “woman of great sentiment” that I am, I cried.
Wept, actually.
I think anyone would, really.
Cause it hurts, putting your whole tender sweet heart out there for someone to take a risk on and then being kindly informed that your whole tender sweet hearted idea wasn’t suitable for selection to the next round.
And my idea, born out of my own personal story of how I was rejected from the fashion industry? It somehow just felt… not enough.
And that hurts.
The rejection pushed me back, made me feel like I didn’t even have what it took to get started.
Overcome with emotion, and blinded by hurt, it took some time to sift through my feelings and process what had happened.
Honestly, it kind of felt like a breakup.
Looking back at the application, I realized that maybe this particular opportunity wasn’t suited for me. Maybe, just maybe, my unique idea didn’t get accepted because it just wasn’t what they were looking for.
Made with the “intention of building momentum and create opportunity around innovation and entrepreneurship in Alaska,” my idea might’ve been too progressive. Where they were looking for a business concept that would directly benefit Soldotna, mine went above and beyond my small town, created with a universality that was perhaps too broad.
And the questions on the application were proof enough: that’s why I struggled so hard submitting my idea in the first place. My magazine had to fit inside these neat tidy little generic boxes, and for most of the questions I didn’t have an answer as to how to make money, or who my team was yet. And I certainly didn’t have a business model or plan because my publication was still in its infancy.
That’s okay though. I mean, that’s what I was hoping this opportunity could help me with.
Unfortunately, it didn’t work out.
I think at the end of the day, it wasn’t necessarily the rejection that hurt the worst (though it did sting like a mother fudger).
What bothered me more was the fact that I shrunk and let myself believe that “hey, maybe you don’t have what it takes.” It was the self-deprecating disappointment towards myself that stuck like glue and hurt like hell.
In the midst of my suffering and torment, I actually questioned the very core of who I was and my reason for being here. I let myself succumb to that innate fear that this thing, this idea, this passion of mine could fail. That I could fail.
And look here kid: I did fail!
But it doesn’t mean I can’t try again. It doesn’t mean I won’t try again.
As my gem so appropriately told me as he was holding me tight: If there’s one thing I know: it’s that your stubborn. And you aren’t going to let something like this go.
And he’s right. I won’t let it go. Because “it” is essentially who I am. My magazine isn’t just a creation of mine, it’s my story. It’s the byproduct of my failure and rejection. It is my rescue, my salvation, and the pulse that keeps these fingers flying across the keyboard hoping to make a positive difference in the world.
I can never let that go.
Because giving up on my publication would mean giving up on myself.
At the end of the night, once I finally stopped crying, I tried something I thought might make me feel better and looked up some famous failures. If you’ve never done that before, you’re missing out on some serious inspiration.
Walt Disney: fired from the Kansas City Star because he “lacked imagination and had no good ideas.”
JK Rowling: fired from work because she wrote stories on her work computer all day long (which may just be what I’m doing now…).
Anna Wintour: fired after 9 months working at Harper’s Bazaar because her shoots were “too edgy.”
Madonna: dropped out of college, moved to New York, and didn’t last a day working at a Dunkin’ Donuts in Times Square.
Oprah Winfrey: fired from her job as an evening news reporter because she “couldn’t sever her emotions from her stories.”
Elvis: was told after a performance by a concert hall manager that he was better off returning to Memphis and driving trucks (try driving women wild!).
Lucille Ball: considered a failed B-list actress and was told she should try another profession.
Marilyn Monroe: modeling agencies told her she should consider becoming a secretary.
Vincent van Gogh: while alive, only sold one of his paintings (and to a friend for a very small amount).
Stephen King: threw away his first and most famous book Carrie because it was rejected 30 times. Luckily, his wife saved it and encouraged him to re-submit it.
Michael Jordan: was cut from his high school basketball team. “I have failed over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.”
Babe Ruth: at one point held the record for strikeouts. “Every strike brings me closer to the next home run.”
Dr. Seuss: initial manuscript was rejected 28 times prior to being accepted.
Fred Astaire: was famously rejected during a Hollywood screen test: “Can’t act. Slightly bald. Dances a little.”
Hwang Dong-hyuk: who’s the writer of the hit show Squid Games was rejected by studios for over 10 years, at one point selling his laptop due to money struggles. Now it’s the #1 in 90 countries and set to become the most-watched show in Netflix history.
Alyeska Krull: my sister, though not famous, has auditioned and tried out for more than 100 roles only to land just one dream role. She continues to try, and her love and passion for theatre triumphs any number of failures.
And those are just a few I thought I’d mention.
Point is: I’m not giving up. As tempting as it was to continue to wallow in self-pity and further question my purpose here on earth, there lies a stronger desire to keep on going. To prove them wrong.
Instead of putting out the fire, it lit it.
The rejection isn’t the end of my story. If my own histories show me anything, it’s that some of the greatest ideas are not only born, but thrive in the aftermath of failure.
So this? It’s just the beginning.
