No matter how old you are, or how much you prepare for it…disappointment is hard.
Yesterday, I interviewed for a teaching job that I wanted more than anything. I wanted this job because the very idea of having a job so early, secured and waiting for me, would give me immense peace of mind. I wanted this job because my heart desires, so much, to make a true difference in the lives of children, and this position entailed working with a population of kids who are desperately in need of support and love.
The interview went well. I could have sold myself more. I could have been less nervous–but I was me. Authentic, passionate, and enthusiastic.
This morning, I got the call and heard the words no one likes to hear…the position had been filled. AKA…not with me.
I managed all the normal formalities that are required at the end of a phone call like this. As I hung up, I couldn’t hold the tears back any longer…and out they came.
I feel raw. I feel hurt.
I am trying not to feel many other things that are so quick to come up for me. Thoughts such as I tried my best. And where did it get me? No where. Like always. That is self pity. I hate self pity.
I am trying to not make this about me. It is most likely not a reflection that I am, once again, not good enough.
It can be so hard not to believe that, however.
There are times like today, where I really want to feel sorry for myself. Where I want to be angry and think, Haven’t I just earned a break, already? Can’t something go my way…just this once?
There is another part of me, that healthier part who knows better, who is saying, It must not have been meant to be.
I kind of want to tell that part to Fuck Off.
So…here I am. In the midst of my own pity party. Hating it.
I am glad I have an appointment with my therapist tomorrow. I need reminders. I need to remember that I am okay. I need to be reminded that those fears that come up–the ones that say, Oh my god!! What if I never get a job? Everyone else will get one but me….–are just that. Fears. (But seriously…what if??)
It is hard, though. I had so much hope. I dared to believe in me, for a change. I may have made an impression…but not a good enough one.
That is hard.
I didn’t expect to take the rejection so personally. I didn’t expect my heart to hurt so bad at the thought of losing the idea of something that had not yet come to fruition.
But it does. My heart–it hurts.