The art of rejection

Last week I was contacted by a company about a job. I interviewed on Friday and was told they would be doing round two of interviews on Monday. I was chosen for a round two interview and had that on Monday afternoon. They told me they wanted to move quick. They wanted to have the person hired and ready to go by Thursday. I had all the necessary qualifications. Accounting experience, event planning experience, reception experience. It was also located only 3.6 miles right down the street. It was perfect for me. I was perfect for it. I felt like I knocked the interviews out of the ball park. I was witty, charming, happy. I got good vibes back from them. Several family and friends said they had a good feelings about this job.
I was told I would hear by yesterday at three o'clock what their decision was. I woke up, went on my walk and began waiting. I was a nervous wreck, so I took a nap. I read, surfed the web, watched TV. Anything to get my mind off the ticking clock.

The later in the day it got, the more my anxiety went away. I could feel the cloud of rejection pressing down upon me, strangling out the hope I was holding on to. Three o'clock came and went with no call. I paced with the phone in my hands for ten minutes. I finally amassed the courage to dial the number for the call I knew would yield no positive result. The woman answered, told me they had 'Chosen another girl'. I respectfully asked for feedback. She said I was great, they just 'went with someone with more experience'. I thanked her and hung up. Immediate the tears began to well. I felt like a failure. I felt ashamed. I felt...rejected. I stumbled to the bedroom and cried for a while, allowing myself to feel the things I hadn't let myself feel. Feelings I had pushed away so as not to show weakness. I examined myself, searching for flaws. Was it because my hair was pulled into a bun? Was it because of my weight? My teeth? The shoes I wore? My outfit? I had all the experience they could have ever wanted. I knew I was being let down easy and I was angry. I thought I had the right to know the real reason why I was not chosen. I thought I had the right to a phone call to tell me so, instead of having to anxiously wait all day only to call and learn of my rejection in that way.

I made myself a batch of pity cookies. I thought they would help, but the sweetness did little to heal the bitter wound of rejection. I found myself unable to sleep last night. My mind wandered down the paths of self-doubt and frustration. When I finally found the slumber that eluded me it did nothing to cure my sadness.

I awoke today with all the emotions still frothing near the surface. I am exhausted from the job search. It has been four months of rejection. I feel like I need to do something else. Something that will heal the wounds left by the pain of repeated, constant rejection. Something that will lift my spirits. I will be on the search for just such a thing. I hope to find it.