Instead, I decided to tell Jeff the truth.
I told him that I was very unhappy at work. I told him that I’d applied for this new job, hoping that a more impressive job title—and a bigger paycheck—would make things feel better and reignite my passion somehow. Even though, in my heart, I knew it probably wouldn’t. This was the first time I’d expressed these feelings to anyone, and it felt like such a massive relief to just…say it.
Jeff listened calmly, nodding, and then asked, “OK. Well, then, what’s next for you?”
Instinctively, I blurted out, “I need to leave this company and do…some other type of work. I don’t know what that will be, but I need to take a chance and try to figure it out.”
He nodded again, and offered to help me figure out my next steps however he could. (Did I mention that Jeff is an amazing guy? He really is.)
One week later, I met with my boss and told him I’d be leaving the company. Instead of the usual “two weeks’ notice,” I asked for a longer transition period—a couple of months, ideally—so that I could gradually phase myself out of the department, train my replacement, and have enough time to figure out my next career move. He agreed to those terms. Just like that, it was official. I was leaving. It was happening.
Four months later, I attended a farewell party that my boss and coworkers threw for me. I hugged everyone goodbye, crumpled up the band posters decorating my cubicle, wiped off my keyboard, and walked out of that building for the last time.
Even after four months of ruminating, I still felt pretty unclear about where my career was heading next. I knew it would have something to do with “writing and words and stuff,” but what exactly, I didn’t know. I was taking a leap of faith—leaving my relatively safe job behind, putting myself out there as a freelance writer-ish-type of person, and hoping that things would work out OK.
In the eight years that followed—after walking away from that broadcasting job—I fought for, hustled for, created, and sometimes serendipitously received writing opportunities that I never could have even dreamed about. I collaborated with over two hundred clients on (literally) thousands of articles, websites, educational programs, books, and other materials that I got to help envision, write, edit, or produce in some capacity. I got a publishing deal. Then another. I also self-published two novels—one of which was recently optioned to be turned into a screenplay. I got my work featured on websites like Forbes, HuffPost, Newsweek, Time, Lifehacker, BuzzFeed, and other exciting places. I figured out how to make a living using my own brain, ten fingers, and a laptop. Even today, all of this is semi-unbelievable to me. But it happened. It’s still happening.
Today, I’ve got my dream career as a full-time, self-employed writer, and the entire journey started…all because Jeff didn’t offer me that fancy job in his department.
When Jeff told me, “Sorry, the position has gone to somebody else,” that tear-soaked, heartfelt, painfully honest conversation was the catalyst that sparked everything.
It’s bizarre when I think about how differently things could have gone. If Jeff had offered me the job, I probably would’ve accepted it. I might’ve continued working at the broadcasting company for another three, five, maybe even ten or fifteen years. Maybe I’d still be working there to this day.
The point of this story, of course, is that sometimes the situation that feels like the worst form of rejection—not getting the job, not getting the promotion, not getting the grant, client, or contract that you want—actually turns out to be a tremendous blessing.
A few years down the road, you might be kneeling on the ground in gratitude, saying to yourself: “Thank God they didn’t hire me.”
Painful as it may be, rejection can be a good thing. Rejection can force you to confront the truth about what you really want—a truth that, maybe, you haven’t admitted to anyone yet, not even yourself. Once the truth is out, it can be dizzying and frightening, but also such a relief. Now, your next chapter can officially begin.
* * *
SURVIVAL TIP:
When you don’t get offered a job that you applied for, remind yourself:
“Well, this is disappointing, but it’s going to be OK. I am going to find—or create—some other type of job opportunity instead. One day, I might be incredibly grateful that this job didn’t work out. This could be a huge blessing in disguise.”
Maybe now, since you didn’t get hired, you’ll finally have time to write that cookbook you’ve been fantasizing about. Maybe now you’ve got time to schedule that long-overdue trip home to visit your mom and dad, and they’ll finally tell you the “real story” of how they met. Maybe now you’ll take a short-term job as a barista and realize that your greatest dream is to run your own coffee shop someday. Maybe now you’ll call up that old colleague to catch up and, lo and behold, maybe she’ll want to hire you.
There’s no telling what could happen next. But whatever it is, it might be even better than any job that you tried to get in the past.
TAKE YOUR BROKEN HEART.
Story contributed by: Susan Hyatt.
Author. Entrepreneur. Life coach. Motivational speaker.
A Note from Alexandra:
When you’re a writer, finding a literary agent is lot like searching for a job. In many ways, it’s the same process. You have to write an enticing email about yourself—an email that will (hopefully) capture a very busy person’s attention. You have to compile documents to prove you’ve got the required experiences and skills. You have to contact a lot of potential agents, cross your fingers, and…wait. It can be a long, tedious process, and it’s one that’s riddled with rejection. Most aspiring authors have to stomach a lot of “No’s” before an agent finally says, “I think you’re terrific, I love your book, and I want to help you get a publishing deal.”
My friend Susan knows all about it, because she just went through the process herself. But her story actually begins a decade earlier—with a shocking crime that temporarily derailed Susan’s entire life. Susan told the entire story to me over the course of a long, emotional phone call. (I was sobbing by the end.)
All you’ll see, Susan is a true survivor, in more ways than one. She’s an inspiration for anybody who wants to achieve a huge, daunting professional goal, and anybody who wants to leave a positive mark on the world. Susan took the single worst experience of her entire life—and she transformed it into art. This is the story of how it happened…
* * *
Susan: Ten years ago, I drove to my local pet store to buy some dog kibble for our new puppy. It was a bright, cheery day. The mid-afternoon light warmed my face. I parked my SUV and walked across the lot behind the store. I saw a man standing near the back entrance, and I smiled politely at him as I passed by. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Just another lovely day in the suburbs of Evansville, Indiana.
The next thing I knew, I was face-down on the ground, being dragged along the sharp gravel.
The man covered my mouth and pulled me behind a dumpster. Then he told me that he’d kill my family if I told anyone about this. And then—there’s really no way to make this sound “delicate” or “subtle”—he raped me. In broad daylight. Literally two paces away from the door of the neighborhood pet store.
If you’ve ever been sexually assaulted, first of all, I am so incredibly sorry you had to endure that type of attack. Secondly, you probably know that this type of trauma can impact you in all kinds of complicated, unexpected, and messy ways. Some women immediately want to tell their family and the police. Other women want to block out the memory and pretend it never happened because it’s just too painful to revisit. Other women blame themselves and feel ashamed, as if the whole thing is their fault, which it never is.
My