The thing about receiving upsetting news is that after wiping away a day full of tears, my little grey cells begin to start working again. In my case, I have inspiration to write!
So if anything, rejection can fuel creativity (well, my version of it anyway).
As you can surmise, I got my third rejection yesterday. The thing that hurt me especially is that I was denied even a review. I thought I had a pretty good chance, especially since I was encouraged by a bigwig. But as my husband consoled me yesterday (along with chocolate cake! He’s a keeper, folks): it doesn’t matter if Bill Gates wants you, if God doesn’t want something for you, it ain’t going to happen.
It wasn’t a good fit for me. I know. But I had convinced myself this would be good for me. Oh, and the title!
I have this problem of getting attached to things, even things that I originally didn’t care for.
This incident reminds me of my first real marriage “proposal” over four (five?) years ago. Let’s just call him Hendra (my sister’s nickname for the dude). When I saw Hendra’s photo for the first time, I was like, “Ew, no! I ain’t that desperate!” But my dad “convinced” me to give him a chance because he had all the trappings – a good education, good family (whatever that means – how can you tell a family is good? I still don’t know), he was Hyderabadi. We talked on the phone and he seemed cool. I later found out that he had a patent and ran marathons. I was impressed. By the time he and has family came over to visit us (all the way from Texas), I was convinced this was the man I was going to marry. A guy who was once “ugh” had become “cute” and I was sure that I would even find him handsome one day.
But when we talked during that visit, we didn’t gel. He knew it immediately. I should have taken the hint with his comment of The Lord of the Rings being boring that this dude SUCKS BALLS (I am a married woman, I can say that now, okay?). But I was so impressed by all the cool things he’d done that I was willing to shortchange myself. He, on the other hand, was not impressed by me at all apparently, still working as a secretary at an Islamic School at the time.
Three days later, we got the call. No. We are not going to proceed.
I was heart-broken.
I am not upset things didn’t work out with Hendra. When I met my husband eventually, I was my crazy Rafia self and he wanted to marry me because of it. Also, he buys me chocolate cake! I am so glad however that Hendra knew himself well enough to know that we wouldn’t be happy together. We wouldn’t have been. Still, thinking of how I broke down in the parking lot the next day, as I was getting ready for work, gives me a little throb in my throat to this day.
And that happened again yesterday. I’m not sad about not getting either of these things. But I am sad about how easily attached I become to things. It’s kinda pathetic, really.
But I am going to keep on telling myself that I will get an opportunity that allows me to do what I love and be myself. I just gotta be patient and not give up. God created me and He wants the best for me. I know He will take care of me, as He has done time and time again. And maybe I’m already living that opportunity. But am I too blinded by the trappings of society to not see it?