on rejection

I thought I’d be somewhere else by now.

At this point in my life, I thought I’d have stability. A career job. A sense of certainty about the direction of my work. I thought that after years of pushing through, of struggling, of doing the hard work to heal, that I’d finally reach the part where things start to fall into place.

Instead, I have an email inbox full of rejection emails, growing by the day.

Every job, every artist opportunity, every application I’ve sent out over the last year and a half has come back with the same response: we regret to inform you… unfortunately, on this occasion… after careful consideration, we are unable to…

It’s exhausting. And it’s not just the rejection itself - it’s that hope that builds in between. I let myself imagine what life would be like if I just got this one. Where it would take me, what it would lead to next... The time spent writing applications, tailoring cover letters, selecting images, crafting artist statements. The waiting. The tiny flicker of maybe. The inevitable no.

At first, I tried to tell myself it didn’t mean anything. That it wasn’t personal. That rejection is just part of this work, this life. But after the tenth, the twentieth, the thirtieth no, it starts to feel like something more. It starts to feel like proof that I’m not good enough. That no matter how hard I try, I will always be falling just short. Especially when those lovely rejections like to point out that I made it to the very final shortlist. Who do they think they're helping by sharing that information?!

But the thing is, despite all of this: I know that’s not true, that I am good enough.

If there’s anything this past year has taught me, it’s that I deserve better. I have spent so long working on myself, on my mental health, on feeling okay again, and I finally do. And now, with that clarity, I know I deserve more than this endless waiting, this constant feeling of being stuck. I just need someone to give me a chance.

And so I have to keep going.

I don’t make work for approval, I never have. I don’t write, or photograph, or apply for these things because I want external validation (though I would be lying if I didn't admit that that is sometimes nice and can help sustain the motivation). I do it because I have to. I have always said, I have to make this art thing work out, because for me, there is no other option. It has to work out. Even in the face of all this rejection, I don’t want to stop. And that’s the thing I've got to hold onto: the fact that I’m still here, still trying.

I know I’m not alone in this. I know rejection is something we all face, but we rarely talk about. Why is that? We celebrate the wins, the successes, the moments when things finally come together, in an instagram post tagging all the right people and places - I am so guilty of this. But the losses? The endless, quiet nos? Those are swallowed in silence and shame.

So let’s talk about it!!!

Have you been here too? How do you push through when it feels impossible? How do you remind yourself to keep going? I could do with some tips.

I’m writing this from my sick bed, knocked out with some cold/flu thing, made worse by yet another rejection email - one of the many you can see above - landing in my inbox just an hour or so ago. This wasn’t meant to be my next post, but it has just poured out of me in response to that latest no. I think that’s important. Maybe writing this is a way of reclaiming something, of refusing to let rejection be the final word. Because even though I just had a big cry, I still believe in what I’m doing. I still want this. And I know, deep down, that I’ll get there. I don’t know exactly what there looks like yet, but I am going to keep going!