God I hope I get it

Getting rejected from your dream job

Mar 31, 2025

I found my dream job. Everything about it so perfect, it had to be destiny. This was my quantum leap. All of my disparate paths leading me here, to this moment.

In came the fantasies of my new life. I dreamed in details, like what my first slack message in the team channel would be. I started scribbling notes for the essay I would write, something like: “everything I did to get my dream job”.

Now most people would tell you to play it cool— people get turned off when they can smell your desperation. Generally I like this advice, but I didn’t care. I was a woman obsessed. This was my moment. My 11 o'clock number. The perfect way to exit my twenties. One thing that is true about theatre and startups is that it rewards those who are bold. Here I go. Theres no turning back. (etc.)

I prepare more than I ever have for these interviews. Hours of user research, listening to interviews, reading blogs. I reached out to people who had connections with the team. I could feel the energy vibrating out of my skin. Fate calling, me listening.

Moments like this feel significant. Like how conviction is supposed to feel– so certain that there’s no avoiding it. The opportunity to embrace the excitement of doing something so important that you forget everything else. I tell myself if nothing else comes from it except this feeling it will have been worth it.

Devastatingly, I did not get the job.

Opening my email, I feel the blood rush to my head as my new life dissolves through my fingertips. As a consummate personality hire, I feel uneasy, confused.

Nono no this is all wrong. I want to tell them this. I want to ask for another shot. I do. It doesn’t work. [I’d share that email too, but I already feel almost-naked writing this much. So leave me in my robe.]

Was I too much? Too intense, or excited? For a few days I’m “just curious.” For a few nights I’m embarrassed.

My inner dialogue: You miss 100% of the shots youblah blah blah. But still, it is physically painful to be rejected. Especially when it feels like someone misunderstands you or sees you in a way you don’t want to be seen. Putting yourself out there is one of the most embarrassing things you can do. But then not putting yourself out there is embarrassing too, only this time you’ve rejected yourself before anyone else could have.

To reach out is to risk. Most of the truly remarkable experiences you can have will fill you with uncertainty and disorientation. These things help us become who we are, I suppose.

Acts of earnestness that remain unrequited show us something sort of beautiful about ourselves. Heat blooms in our cheeks and our stomachs tie themselves in knots because we allowed ourselves to be vulnerable, to be honest, to risk getting ~~a tiny bit~~ hurt in the process.

If I had to do it over again I’d still go for it, even at risk of exposing some version of crazy eyes. I’d ask the question, fight for the opportunity, and be overly-passionate about the things I’m passionate about.

There is no shame in true earnestness. Good theatre teaches us this. Characters who take the risk, lay it all on the line to achieve a dream. If Cassie didn’t sing The Music and the Mirror, who knows where the hell she’d end up. Devastating!

But also maybe in an alternate universe, Cassie sang that song at 100 other auditions and didn’t get it. Still, It was good practice for the very special and very rare time in life when it worked out. Because when it does, it changes your life.