The alternative to moving forward is to stay still and play it safe.

In any creative career, there are bruising moments of rejection. I’m not talking about emails that go unanswered after reaching out to dream clients—although, let’s face it, that’s not much fun either. I mean giving it your all and still not making it, for one reason or another. Sometimes, you’ll never know why. I can’t yet decide if not knowing is a blessing or a curse. Still, there’s no point ruminating on the whys and what-ifs. Regardless, it happens—to everyone. I promise.

I’ve had a few rejections in my time. One happened very recently and completely out of the blue, right near the finish line. It was a drawn-out project (in hindsight—a possible red flag?), and suddenly, at the final stage (ouch), and in an email (ouch again), the project was off. Not great for the ego, and it brought back the strangely familiar sensation of being dumped by email many moons ago. Who does that, right?

For obvious reasons, there’s not a whole lot more I can share. So, this won’t be a long, self-serving post about my feelings. I’ll spare you such indulgences—those are saved for my journaling. I simply do not know why, and I doubt I ever will. This post is intended as a useful reminder for anyone going through, or having gone through, what can only be described as an icky patch. Repeat after me: “This too shall pass.”

Also, let me just state—this is not my first, and it will not be my last. That’s the very reason I’m writing this down. I hope it will serve a more practical purpose: to act as a reminder to myself for next time. There will always be a next time. That is the price we pay for moving forward. We put ourselves out there, and sometimes that involves rejection.

With all this fresh in my mind and heart, here are five points to ruminate on—tried and tested (very recently) by yours truly on more than one occasion. I hope they help.

Talk about it.

Like therapy, it feels better once you vocalize it. I’m all for sharing the highs and the lows. It enables me to process and move on. If you have the right people around you, they’ll offer their own moments of rejection in comparison. Sharing vulnerabilities with good friends often leads to bigger conversations and real insight about their own experiences and lessons learned. It’s not just you—it never is. It might feel that way, but that’s simply not true. Tell your low points with a sense of pride—after all, they’re where you’ve earned your stripes. They shape you; they add texture and experience. We all grow from the tough stuff.

To silence and stifle isn’t a way forward. It can turn people bitter—a poison that makes even the most fertile creative minds toxic. Share it all. Without the full picture, there’s a fear of being incomplete and, well, a tad basic. No one wants to be basic. However, keep in mind that not everyone will be willing to share. I’m always drawn to people with emotional scope. Invariably, there are people who will judge. This is life. These are often the very people who won’t cheer you on when things are going well, so their lack of support when things go badly shouldn’t come as a surprise. Lean in toward those you can talk to freely, without fear, competition, or judgment—those who truly care and have your best interests at heart. It will be a smaller number than you think. These people are like rare and precious stones.

Feel the Bruise.

I’m all for feelings, but don’t let yourself wallow in the self-pity that rejection can bring. I allowed myself 24 hours to wallow, but don’t stay there. It’s a swamp you want to pull yourself out of, or else it’s easy to get stuck. Instead, seek out spaces where you feel contentment, where you can wander without a clear destination (this allows the feelings to take precedence and not get distracted by Google Maps). For me, it’s often the obvious—a gallery or a favourite bookstore. Immersing myself in the creative lives and minds of others, reading about their journeys, their ups and downs, always helps. I’ve written before about my love of autobiographies (see post here). A little perspective never hurt anyone. If reading a whole book feels overwhelming, simply type into Google “most famous stories of creative rejection.” The results are reassuring. It’s a tale that spans all generations.

We all know the story of J.K. Rowling’s global hit Harry Potter being rejected by numerous publishers. One of the most celebrated painters, Vincent van Gogh, sold only one painting in his lifetime while being largely dismissed by the art world. The list goes on. Walt Disney was fired from a job for “lacking imagination,” and his first animation studio went bankrupt. Even Lady Gaga’s career started off and then stalled after she was signed and then dropped by Island Def Jam Records after just three months. She channeled the experience into her creative process and wrote the song “Marry the Night” about it.

Don’t worry, I’m not experiencing a sense of self-grandiosity by drawing parallels between my recent setback and the superstars above. My point is—they all had one thing in common: they kept going, regardless of the sting. Which leads me nicely to my next point.

Onwards.

Two steps forward, one step back. Any career worth its weight in gold is built on many small steps. Some steps take us forward with a fanfare (but the truth is, for most of us, those moments are few and far between). Most steps are unglamorous and unseen by an audience—the showing up in the studio day after day. It’s those steps that actually get us the wins. So, when these wins fall short, as in this case, it’s easy to fall into “what’s the point of all this?” But the point is that one loss is just that—one loss. The steps forward are far more numerous and important. It’s in the act of maintaining progress that we can easily overtake and move beyond such a loss.

The surge of excitement from two steps forward—a job or client win, the feeling of “I did it! I’ve made it!”—is lovely, but it rarely lasts. It can feel a bit like the famous scene in The Wizard of Oz when Dorothy looks behind the curtain (here – look at the Wizard), and the truth is revealed—it’s somewhat disheartening. (That’s the one-step-back moment.) So, sure, the ego is left a little bruised (as mentioned in point 2), but that’s okay. We are human. Bruises fade. Like I said: onwards.

Share the work.

Something will come of it. Use it and own it. It’s yours, and it deserves air time. One setback doesn’t mean overall rejection—if I believed that, my career would have ended long before it ever started. It simply means it wasn’t right for that client, not the whole world. So share it. See what comes. Think of it as planting a seed—something will take. Give it time. Nurture it, and yourself, and good things will happen as a consequence.

Time.

In a year’s time, will this still matter? We all know time is a great healer, but honestly, I’m talking about the bigger picture. Sure, maybe after time there’s a little scar tissue, but invariably some other drama—good or bad—will have occurred, acting as a reminder of this blip. Speaking for myself, I’ve come through too much to let setbacks defeat this tenacious soul (see previous post). In my case, I have grit and defiance that I lean into time and again when I face challenges. Time helps keep things in check. It really is the great leveller, reminding us that what seems big today is just part of a bigger picture. Like I said in point 3: onwards.

In fact, maybe the whole point of rejection is that it needs a positive spin. Rejection forces us to see what’s possible. If a map changes suddenly—or perhaps, more accurately, if the map combusts into a ball of flames and all you’re left with is a pile of ash—now what? Where do you go? What comes next?

Where do you want to aim now?

Staying safe means standing still. It also leads to stagnation—there’s a risk of turning stale. Risk it. Again and again. Each time, reset your coordinates and aim higher.