I've been rejected from every single job I’ve applied to over the last two years

The free fall into rejection I never asked for.

I was laid off in 2023.

I didn’t see it coming. In fact, my organization told us they wouldn’t resort to lay-offs.

Maybe I shouldn’t have believed them, but I did.

So when I was added to a meeting with the heads of my department and HR, my anxiety SPIKED.

It couldn’t be, could it? But I knew it was.

It’s been almost two years, and I still haven’t gotten another job. Not by choice, let’s make that clear.

I’ve applied to hundreds of positions over the last 20-something months.

One interview.

One trial assignment (unpaid).

And tons of rejections. Some of them via apologetic emails, most of them silent ghosts.

I met with directors, recruiting agencies, signed up for newsletters with job listings, asked for feedback on my resume, created a portfolio for my work, texted everyone in my contacts asking for leads.

All the things they say you’re supposed to do.

And still, crickets.

So, in 2024, I decided that if everyone thought I was Unhirable™, then maybe it was time I hired myself.

I launched my astrology and tarot business, astral pathways.

And even though I give as much as a stay-at-home mom with a toddler possibly can to this business, the rejection shows up there sometimes, too.

Recently, I applied to a job I was actually excited about for once. I thought I was over-qualified for it. And after advancing to the next stage, I thought I had it in the bag.

Then earlier this week, I got the email: We regret to inform you…

I let myself be sad and annoyed and why me?! for a little bit.

But then I got furiously curious.

How do other people find the resolve to just… keep going? After rejection after rejection after rejection?

I think of famous authors, artists, innovators who fielded dozens of rejections before someone decided to take a chance on them.

How did they keep pushing, fighting, advocating for their work?

Is the answer really as simple and cringey as… they believed in themselves?

Believe in yourself.

It’s very pre-2000s Disney movie. The step-sister of “Live Laugh Love.” The thing we’ve all heard and seen so many times that it’s become devoid of any real nutrients—like a marshmallow, mostly fluff and air

But think about it: believing in yourself as a practice? A ritual? A manifesto?

That’s a whole revolution.

Because it means you don’t need any of these systems or institutions to validate you and your work and your worth. YOU know this inherently before anyone else does.

You operate outside of the validation industrial complex.

OK so maybe we need their money or their platforms (mmmhey capitalism), but in a world that bullies us into believing we need other people’s validation to be worth anything, being the first one—or seemingly the only one—to have faith in YOUR vision is so fucking punk.

I used to take rejection as a personal attack, an indicator that I’m a big ole fuckin loser. Victim-mode activated. Chip-on-the-shoulder era commencing.

But being rejected from every single job I’ve applied to over the last two years has (surprise!) changed me.

I’m starting see rejection as a challenge to dig my heels even deeper into the fact that what I have to offer is valuable. That who I am is valuable.

My perspective, my creativity, my work ethic? Anyone would be lucky to have me on their team.

This 20-something month long rejection train has taken me to the well-earned conclusion that self-worth isn’t a destination but a muscle I am constantly strengthening. Every rejection is a bicep curl. Or a squat thrust. Or a burpee (god I hate burpees.)

And I’m tryna be hulked the fuck out with self-worth.

Because ultimately, I don’t need to be anywhere my value is not celebrated. And if I’m genuinely OK with being told “no,” then I just might become unstoppable (shoutout to Holisticism’s recent Substack failure tolerance vs. failure aversion!)

A lot of people (myself included) reframe rejection as redirection to make the sting less sting-y. I think this can be helpful, but I’m also a fan of feeling the full shittyness of it all.

Because there’s richness in that shit-filled sting.

What does the rejection spark in you? What does it make you question? Because that’s where you’re needed. That’s what is asking you to show up.

My first thought after reading that rejection email earlier this week was, “What’s wrong with me? Why aren’t I good enough?”

Yes, I know it wasn’t personal. Sure, I’d like to think that what’s meant for me will never miss.

But none of that made the sticky icky feelings go away.

So what did?

Stepping into the sticky icky opening those feelings so thoughtfully created for me (just be careful you don’t get stuck there. Ahem, it’s sticky!!)

And inside, there were many past versions of me feeling like she wasn’t good enough.

There was also a lot of spite and suggestions to make being Unhirable™ my whole personality. Well fuck you then!!!!!

And then, I heard something. A little quiet buzz at first, but then it got louder, until it was thunderous.

And I looked around to see every single iteration of me, past present and future, cheering me on.

And my family was there, too. And my friends. And that one Instagram follower who “likes” every single one of my stories.

Showing up to potentially get rejected every day takes courage. And it’s HARD to feel like you’re the only one who believes in what you’re capable of. But you’re so rarely the only one. Don’t overlook the people in your corner, cheering you on. Because they’re there—even if it’s just the past present and future versions of you.

Maybe the obvious opposite of feeling a sense of lack is abundance, but I think that the other, less obvious, opposite of lack is trust.

Trust that your time will come.

Trust that your resolve means more than any institution ever will.

Trust that what makes you unique and magical is valuable even when other people can’t see it.

Trust that if you believe in your vision, your skills, and your magic with your whole magicussy, then eventually you will find the people who do, too.

Or at least, that’s what I’m choosing to believe right now.

And maybe, you know, hone the craft along the way for good measure.

Being Unhirable™ has been a big ole test in my resolve. I’ve questioned myself over and over again: How deep is your capacity to believe in yourself, really?

Believe in yourself.

It’s still the cheesy wall decor hanging over some white suburban mom’s toilet.

But also? It’s a prayer, and a promise, and a threat.