Failure.
A word that no one wants to be associated with, but everyone can relate to. In one way or the other, we have all had a taste of this bitter pill notorious for its poignant aftertaste. Sometimes, this unpleasant tang lingers long after the pill has been swallowed, marring our appetite to try again.

The Art of Rejection

Over the weekend, I received an email I had been looking forward to for weeks. It was the decision letter for a scholarship I applied for months earlier. I enthusiastically opened the message, but the content of the email wasn’t what I was expecting.

I had been rejected. It was my fourth rejection—the last of four scholarship applications I made earlier in the year.

I glared at my laptop screen for a few minutes, trying to process the information displayed on it. I was particularly hopeful about this very opportunity—I was confident in my application, and I had expected a positive outcome. Sitting in front of my computer, I wasn’t sure how to reconcile the variance between my expectation and the stinging reality before me. Remember the relationship between hope and despair? (Check this post)

This feeling wasn’t anything new though—in fact, it has become a staple in recent times. I have lost count of the several rejections I’ve received in the past few months. Beyond academic affairs, I have also accrued a robust collection of “no’s” from a number of job openings, events, and what have you.

To be fair, I probably wasn’t eligible for some of those applications, but I still made an attempt; afterall, I had nothing to lose. However, for some of those applications, I was almost certain I’d get the role, only to be turned down. A few of them resulted in interview sessions, but nothing more.

Dealing with Rejection

Rejection is a special form of failure. Failure is generally characterized by our inability to achieve an objective goal. Rejection, on the other hand, is rather subjective and relational.

The pain of failure or rejection is not in the failure itself, but rather in our interpretation of it. Every case of rejection stems from an external perception of us, and isn’t always a true reflection of our abilities. As social beings, we are psychologically wired to crave acceptance from the tribe, and rejection makes us feel isolated, not good enough, not wanted.

When my rejections started coming in, they came with the temptation to buy into this false narrative. But after analyzing the situation, I realized that I was in charge of how I interpreted the turn downs. Did it mean that I wasn’t good enough, or I just didn’t fit their desired perception of a worthy candidate?

Don’t get me wrong; I’m in no way trying to sell you the idea that you’re flawless, and every rejection should be considered as an attack to your person. Far from it. Every rejection should send you back to the drawing board, and if properly processed, we can learn so many lessons from our rejections. My point is, don’t take failure too personal. Learn to separate rejections (or failure by extention) from your identity.

Harnessing Failure

In the opening paragraph, I mentioned that failure is bitter pill with an unpleasant aftertaste. Sometimes, this bitter pill turns out to be beneficial in the long run.

In my experience, I have learned that failure, if processed right, builds courage and resilience. Most times, our innate fear of failure paralyzes us, and prevents us from taking actions. But for many people, after taking the bitter pill for the first time, we realize it isn’t so bad afterall.

There are many success stories with outrageous histories of failure. After so many failures, these individuals developed immunity to the supposed pain it brings, and instead, every subsequent failure only served to fuel their drive for success. Instead of being a bitter pill, it became a source of vitamins.

Truth is, as much as we despise failure, it is mostly inevitable. The path to excellence in any field is often laden with a myriad of disappointments and rejections. Understanding that failure is somewhat unavoidable, we have to learn to embrace it. Take every failure with an open mind, and harness it to your advantage. Regardless of how often you fail, what matters is that you pick yourself up and try again. This idea is well captured in the Japanese proverb “Nana korobi ya oki”, which can be translated as “fall seven times, get up eight”.

In the words of John C. Maxwell, “fail early, fail often, but always fail forward”.