The Art of Rejection
(And Why I’m Celebrating Anyway)
This week, I got turned down for a freelance job. Oof.
My inbox pinged, my hopes soared, and then… the polite “thanks, but no thanks” landed like a deflating balloon. I stared at my screen for a moment, waiting for my inner pep talk to kick in.
Instead, my brain went straight to: Well, that’s it. Time to quit everything and open a peanut butter toast café.
Rejection is a rite of passage for creatives. It happens to everyone—illustrators, writers, musicians, actors… even dogs auditioning for TV commercials (I assume). But even though I know this, it still stings. So, after the initial dramatic sighing, I did what any mature, well-balanced artist does—I had a minor sulk, then ate an ungodly amount of peanut butter on burnt toast, because comfort food is a coping strategy.
Once I finished my delicious carb-based therapy session, I realised something: this “no” wasn’t actually the end of the world. In fact, I’ve been rejected plenty of times before, and I’m still here, sketching, illustrating, and making art. So, let’s talk about why rejection isn’t the death of creativity—it’s just part of the messy, wonderful process.
Step 1: The Overdramatic Emotional Spiral
When the rejection email hit my inbox, my brain went through the five stages of creative rejection grief in record time:
Denial – “Surely, this was a mistake. Maybe they sent the wrong email? Maybe they meant to say ‘YOU’RE HIRED, YOU GENIUS’ but autocorrect got in the way?”
Anger – “How dare they not immediately recognise my brilliance?!”
Bargaining – “Perhaps if I just send them one more email clarifying how fantastic I am?”
Sadness – Queue dramatic staring out of the window while softly sighing.
Acceptance – “Ah well, time to make something so cool they’ll regret everything.”
By the end of the spiral, I remembered something important: rejection doesn’t mean failure. It just means not this one, not this time.
Step 2: The Pep Talk (That I Have to Give Myself Every Time)
Here’s the thing: every single creative person—yes, every single one—has been rejected. J.K. Rowling? Rejected 12 times. Dr. Seuss? Turned down by 27 publishers. Vincent Van Gogh? Sold only one painting in his lifetime. (And, to be fair, he also cut off his ear, so let’s not aim for too much artistic suffering.)
I remind myself that rejection is not a reflection of my worth or talent. Maybe my style wasn’t the right fit. Maybe the project scope changed. Maybe Mercury was in retrograde and their cat deleted my email.
The “why” doesn’t matter—the important thing is what happens next.
Step 3: The Bounce-Back Plan
So, what’s the next move after a rejection? Here’s my current strategy:
Make something new – The best revenge is great art. I take all that rejection energy and channel it into a passion project. Something fun, weird, and unapologetically me.
Refine and improve – Maybe I look at my pitch, portfolio, or process and see if there’s room for improvement. (Or I decide I’m perfect as I am and move on, which is also valid.)
Tell other creatives – Because let’s be honest, sharing rejection stories is weirdly comforting. It reminds us we’re not alone in this chaotic creative world and my illo gurls are great!
Step 4: Things I Tell Myself After a Creative Rejection
I have a mental list of pep-talk lines I repeat every time rejection hits. Some are wise. Some are utterly ridiculous. All of them help.
“It’s not me, it’s them. Right? RIGHT?!”
“Maybe they’re allergic to amazing illustrations.”
“Dr. Seuss was rejected 27 times. I am in excellent company.”
“Time to make something so good they wish they had hired me.”
“If all else fails… cake.”
What About You?
Rejection sucks. But it also shapes us. Have you ever been turned down for something and ended up doing something better because of it? Do you have a foolproof way of shaking off disappointment (binge-watching, baking, dancing aggressively to 80s music)?
Tell me your best rejection survival strategies—let’s turn this into a support group for spurned creative geniuses.
Until next time—keep sketching, keep creating, and remember: every 'no' brings you closer to the right 'yes.' Keep being brilliant.
Kim