My Year of Rejection

Last year I read a tweet that completely changed my perspective on goal setting. Instead of trying to ‘achieve’ or ‘reach’ my goals, I could try getting rejected. I’m not purposely self-sabotaging; quite the opposite.

This was the tweet that made the lightbulb go off for me:

I’m no stranger to goal setting. When I was a teenager, I started writing a list of all the things I wanted to do in my lifetime; a bucket list if you will. Every so often I find this list amongst my papers. I’ll add a few more goals and, if I’m lucky, tick off one or two (get my full license, visit Italy). Previously goal setting has been a pretty passive activity, as I’m sure it is for a lot of us. We make a list, it goes into hiding, and every so often we remember it.

I mentioned in a past post that I felt like I’d been waiting my entire life. For what, I don’t really know. Something interesting, exciting, passionate, life-affirming, life changing. Until recently, I didn’t fully realise that only I can control what happens to me. Want an interesting career? I’d have to work at it. Fancy living in a different county? I’d probably need to save some money. In my late twenties, I was finally coming round to the fact that waiting is a terrible use of time.

Enter inspirational tweet stage left.

Why was I waiting? Well I was bloody scared, that’s why. Scared of failure, scared of rejection and, the big one – scared of not being any good at the thing I’d set my heart on. It’s easier not to try in the end.

Then I saw this tweet. It was simple – The aim is to be rejected 20 times – and I could relate to the time sensitivity as I approach my own 30th birthday. I certainly don’t think that 30 is old or past it by any means, but it’s a milestone that I couldn’t really fathom as an 18 year old, it seemed so far off. I remember being in my last weeks of college, preparing for uni and an unknowable world, one that wasn’t dictated by the school bell. I thought of what I might do or achieve by 30, only because 30 seemed a sufficiently far enough goal post. Some of the things I contemplated did happen; many others didn’t.

It’s this spirit of rumination that I return to now, almost at the goal post. What did happen and what didn’t? How could I have changed the outcome or helped myself meet the goals I aspired to? A big part of getting older has been learning to let the unchangeable go. I can’t go back and change how I acted or the choices I made. I can’t undo anything. But I can let go of the shame, guilt or sense of failure that still lives with me. And I can focus on what I can control going forward.

The satisfaction and reward came from giving something a go, not from being recognised for the effort.

Which brings us to today. I saw this tweet and it changed my perspective on goal setting. If my goal was to get published as a writer, then it put a lot of pressure on that event actually happening. If my goal was to get rejected (again, not in a self-sabotaging way, do put your best foot forward), it meant that I had to put myself out there and it didn’t matter if I got published or not. The satisfaction and reward came from giving something a go, not from being recognised for the effort.

This year of rejection is also about rejecting certain notions about achievement and success that I’ve been carrying with me for a long time. Rejecting comparison and ideas that I should achieved X by age Y. The book I’m reading at the moment – The Multi-Hyphen Method by Emma Gannon – has been really helpful in unpacking what success has meant, and how you can come up with your own definition. It looks like the first 26 pages of the book are available online.

The goal of getting rejected might not be for everyone, but there’s something about acknowledging the worst case scenario that lessens it’s power over you. I, for one, am ready to give it a go.

So, here’s to 2019, my year of rejection.