FreeBird,
I don’t know about you, but the Monday after a holiday weekend I feel like that weird, sad helium balloon hovering between the floor and ceiling at the end of the party.
Rather than overcompensate with hearts and rainbows this morning, I’m taking a moment to reflect on a hard truth: Winning at anything requires getting great at handling rejection.
Today, as we kick-off the second half of 2025—there’s no time to lose.
Job seekers in this market face more day-to-day rejection than a Hollywood actor auditioning for roles, a novelist submitting to slush piles. More than all those looking for love on a dating app. The volume of rejection to be had out there in this big world is staggering.
You might send out 100 applications today and get 99 rejection emails tomorrow. Isn’t automation great?
Then there are the promising interviews that end with, “We’ve decided to go in another direction.”
Cue the waves crashing against the cliffs.
When rejection hits hard, blame nature. We're wired for it to be painful. Back in our cave-dwelling days, rejection wasn’t just disappointing—it was dangerous. Getting cast out of the tribe meant isolation, predators, and possibly starvation.
That wiring hasn’t gone away. Rejection stings unless you’re a machine—say, a dishwasher or a toaster. Thems the facts.
So why do some seem to steamroll over rejection, while the rest of us get steamrolled by it? After careful study of the subject, I’ve determined that people who manage rejection best don’t wallow—they take immediate action.
I once read about a writer who created a ritual around rejection. Every time she got a “no” from a literary agent (and she got hundreds), she immediately sent out another submission.
She called it “lobbing the tennis ball back over the net.”
This one move reframes rejection from an end into a beginning.
She’s not alone. History is full of people who rejected the “no” and kept going:
Howard Schultz (Starbucks): Rejected by 217 of the 242 investors he pitched. Most told him Americans wouldn’t pay premium prices for coffee.
Walt Disney: Fired from a newspaper job for “lacking imagination.”
Steven Spielberg: Rejected from film school—three times.
Oprah Winfrey: Told she was “unfit for TV” and “too emotional” as a reporter.
None of them were immune to the sting. What they had was psychological resilience.
Researchers say resilience is like a muscle—the more you use it, the stronger it gets. Every time you face rejection and keep going, you’re rewiring your brain to handle future setbacks with more grit.
One common trait in resilient people? They separate their work from their worth. Rejection isn’t a referendum on who you are. It’s a “no” to something you are putting out there, at this time, by this person or institution.
I want to be the kind of person who eats rejection for lunch. I have to be. You too? Come along.
1. Create a rejection ritual.
Every “no” should trigger a specific action. Send two new applications. Message one new contact. Learn one new skill. Just keep the ball in play.
2. Let it make you better.
Not all rejections are helpful, but some carry valuable feedback. Look for patterns. Adjust your approach. Use the data. Ditch the drama.
3. Set rejection goals.
Counterintuitive, but powerful: Aim for a set number of rejections each month. It means you’re putting yourself out there. Rejection becomes a measure of effort, not failure.
Rejection will never feel good, but if we treat it as part of the journey instead of an impediment, it loses its power to derail us. It can actually strengthen our resolve. It can make us unstoppable.
Today’s action:
Calculate your current “rejection rate” in your job search. Then set a goal to double it in the next two weeks through increased outreach and applications. The more you face it, the less it fazes you.
Aim high,
E.S.
P.S. "Success is going from failure to failure without losing your enthusiasm." - Winston Churchill
For several years, I've written short fiction as a hobby. (I say hobby, because no matter how successful you are as a short story writer, there's just no chance of making a living at it!) Anyway, this post resonated with me. I'm part of an online writing group, and we try to celebrate and set annual goals around rejection -- because it's absolutely inevitable. As you said, the more you're rejected, the more you can use it as a badge of honor of putting yourself out there. I used to be devastated by rejection as a writer. Now, I'm targeting 100 rejections in my short fiction hobby this year.