Rejection hurts. A study recently came out, showing that 10 out of 10 people have experienced rejection at some point in their life. I would beg to make the case that a good percentage of that 10 of 10 probably disliked the rejection they received as well. I’m not an expert on the human condition, but I am, after all, a human. I’m not an expert on rejection, but I’ve been rejected enough times in my life. I’ve been rejected enough times in the past week to realize rejection teaches a few very important lessons, if we are willing to learn them.

Let me begin by saying, the past weeks have been less than. *Note: If you aren’t interested in the pity party section of this article, skip to paragraph four.* I’ve been told “no” enough times to fill my quota for a long, long time. Let’s just say if I had a boyfriend, he probably would have broken up with me. Yeah, it’s been that kind of week. I was turned down by a few things that I really wanted and worked for. It was the kind of turn down that just makes your heart sick and your stomach hurt. It was the kind of turn down that hits you exactly where it hurts. In the midst of rejection, I think our first extinct is to throw a good old fashion pity party. Maybe you’re stronger than me, and you take every rejection in stride, working to be a better person because of it. If that’s you, I applaud you. I’d like to think that’s who I am. But as I set out the hypothetical streamers and party hats for my pity party, I was hit with the reality that I am not that strong person.

The first rejection came early on in the week. It was the rejection from a play for which I had auditioned. I auditioned with high hopes. I loved the role, and I really wanted it. The second rejection came in the form of a little white envelope. I have to say, this rejection hurt more than the first one. Inside that little white envelope wasn’t acceptance, but instead the two little words I didn’t want to hear. Inside the envelope were the words “wait list.” Wait list, is college speak for, “we invited a lot of cool kids to this party, but if they don’t show up, I guess you’ll do.” It’s hurtful to say the least. Even though I knew neither of these rejections were personal assaults on my character, they still hurt. Even though neither of these rejections was going to ruin my life, both really leveled me.

So, this got me thinking. Why was I crying over cast lists and white envelopes? There had to be something deeper behind rejection.

This is where the learning came in. I am a firm believer that God redeems every trial in our life. And I think He often redeems these trials by using them to teach and grow us. So after a good pity party, I forced myself to search for the lesson in rejection. What did these rejections teach me about myself? I came to the conclusion that there were two main reasons rejection hurts.

1.) Rejection hurts because we feel like we have wasted our efforts.

Have you ever tried out for something that you knew you didn’t work that hard for? It was a lot less upsetting to get rejected from that, because you could easily see it was something you could have controlled. I think rejection is a wound that is salted by the amount we worked for and wanted acceptance. I wanted more than anything, to be cast in the play. I wanted to say the lines and get the headline, and feel the part. I wanted it so much I could taste it, so I only took the rejection that much harder.

In regards to that little white envelope, I worked hard for that one. I wrote essays. I got letters of reference. I interviewed. I spent four years of high school trying to get grades that would make colleges consider me. I went through three SAT prep courses. I worked my butt off with the end goal of getting a big white envelope with the words, “we are pleased to accept.” I didn’t work for the words, “we regret to inform.” I suddenly felt like all my effort was futile. What had I really worked for?

When we don’t really want things, or we don’t really work for them, we can’t really blame anyone other than ourselves. We are in control. When you truly worked your hardest, and want it most, and you still don’t get it, you are left without any control. Nothing you could have done could have changed the outcome. And this leads us to thinking about the second reason…

2.) Rejection hurts because it makes us ask, “what’s wrong with me?”

The first reason is the natural reaction to wanting and working and ending up with the results you didn’t want. This reason is deeper. This reason cuts harder, and scars more. You can be the most self-confident, self-assured person who ever lived, and yet human nature is to feel hurt by rejection. When you hear the words, “thanks but no thanks,” your brain kicks in immediately to start evaluating the situation. We were created to work and reap the benefits of our labor. When we feel like we failed, and the fruits weren’t harvested, our brains try to help us figure out “what went wrong.” Unfortunately that usually leaves us saying not, “what went wrong with this situation, and what can I do to learn from it?” but instead, “what is inherently wrong with me that I wasn’t good enough?”

“Not good enough” can resonate inside of us for a long time after all the little white envelopes have been recycled. “Not good enough” soon turns into a dangerous game of comparison. We start looking around and saying, “of if only I was more like them. They got into this thing! They always gets what they want! Of course I wasn’t going to succeed. Not when there are people like them!” Suddenly, it isn’t even about the rejection. It’s a war inside of us.

Rejection hurts when it makes us question our identity. How I viewed myself was affected by my acceptance into the cast of that show and that college. I knew that I would feel a little more validated as a person if I heard the word, “yes.” When we find our identity in things that we cannot control, and further, when we find our identity in the wrong indicators, it can severely skew our view of ourselves.

Again, maybe you are a confident person who has never experienced these feelings of self-doubt. Congratulations. It’s an amazing thing to be thankful for the person you are, and to be content in your life. Or maybe you externalize rejection, instead of internalizing it. I’m not saying everyone falls into the same category with rejection. So if you’ve never experienced these feelings of inadequacy, keep reading, maybe you’ll learn something about the people around you. If you have experienced these feelings, remember, as cliché as it sounds, you are not alone!

While you’re walking around comparing yourself to other people, they’re comparing themselves to you. While you’re wondering why you don’t measure up in certain areas, they’re wondering why they don’t measure up in certain areas. Even those people who seem to hear “yes” every day of their life, have or will at some point in their life experience rejection. You may not see it on the outside, but no one is immune to rejection.

It’s also important to realize, rejection is not synonymous with failure. Working hard and wanting something, and then not getting it, does not mean you failed. And it most definitely does not mean you are a failure. Sometimes, in all honesty, we work hard and it isn’t enough. The standard was too high before we even set out to accomplish our goal. Does that mean that we are less of ourselves? No! Does that mean we should never try for anything ever again? Of course not! How would we know what we were capable of accomplishing if we never tried?

It’s also important to remember, it’s okay when rejection hurts. It’s embarrassing. It’s embarrassing for me to stand here and tell you all that I didn’t achieve those things. It’s embarrassing to admit that we didn’t reach the aims we had for ourselves. Our pride is wounded. Everyone posts pictures of acceptance letters. No one jumps up and downs and calls their grandmother to say, “I just got rejected!” It hurts to hear that we weren’t chosen, because deep down, we all want to be chosen.  But it’s important in those times of embarrassment and hurt, not to let those emotions eclipse our logic. To quote Scarlett O’Hara, “tomorrow is another day.” The sun does rise again, and sooner or later that pain fades. What shouldn’t fade are the lessons we learn from the pain.

So what lessons am I taking away from rejection?

1.) Sometimes rejection is completely independent of us. – Sometimes we work as hard as we possibly can, and we still get rejected. Sometimes we are rejected based on factors that in actuality have nothing to do with us. Just because you see a small piece of the picture, it doesn’t mean you see the whole picture.

2.) Rejection should not be a gateway to play the comparison game. – You are you. You were created for a specific purpose. If you didn’t accomplish what you worked hard for, it just means that there is something greater ahead of you. Stop looking at other people’s successes. They were created with their own purposes. God has a plan for your life that is a lot bigger than any rejection you may experience now. God has planned more for our lives than we could ever imagine, even if we don’t see it now. (Isa. 55:8)

3.) Rejection is not a reflection of who I am, or how my life will play out. – I was the same person I was two weeks ago before casts lists and white envelopes. My family doesn’t love me any less. My life is not drastically altered by the rejection. I am not worth less, because my plans didn’t come to fruition. And my future is not bleak, because my present didn’t occur the way I had planned. Your identity should be based in something much deeper than the word, “yes.” (Hint: Identity is based on what your Creator thinks about you. Psalm 139:14)

4.) The rejection of today, should never affect our outlook on tomorrow. – (oops, got a little fortune cookie on that one.) Rejection hurts. Rejection hurts, and it makes us wonder who we are. But rejection should never keep us from trying again tomorrow.

5.) Rejection does not define us. Instead it’s how we react to that rejection that determines the person we are. – I dealt with rejection by writing this. Am I super thrilled about my rejections, and ready to take them in stride with a skip in my step? Absolutely not. (If you answered yes, you need to reread this article.) My attitude could still use some work, but I hope that in some way, writing this can help someone else with rejection. I hope I go back and reread this whenever I go through more times of rejection, as I am sure to do in the future.  And I hope that in four years, the rejection will not be what I remember as my defining moment. Instead, I hope I remember the person God molded me into in the midst of rejection.