the 7-minute rejection
i got rejected for a role 7 minutes after hitting send.
yesterday, i poured hours of deep, emotional work into a huge scriptwriting trial. genuinely, i enjoyed doing it. i love deconstructing human psychology and checking if my writing skills got sharper through practice.
for the final part of the trial, i went full-on soulful mode. i structured my raw, vulnerable take on navigating heartbreak, toxic patterns, and taking accountability to fit their criteria (somehow).
i was happy about the whole thing, i hit send.seven minutes later, the rejection landed in my inbox.
7 minutes. that’s how long it took to dismiss hours of my lived truth.
it reminded me of being in the classroom in japan, where my years of experience were invisible because they simply weren’t needed in the room. these systems truly don’t see your heart, they only take whatever piece of you they can get.
it was the fastest rejection i’d ever experienced in my life, ever. i was so exhausted at nearly 2 am i thought i was dreaming. the whole document included 3 types of sample analyses. am i tripping? the response couldn’t have been that swift?
i checked again when i woke up and the rejection email was still there.
the feedback was fair. they said i leaned into personal judgment and broader self-improvement framing instead of staying tightly grounded in what’s actually happening moment-to-moment. they focus on behavioral mechanics, but i focus on interpretation.
they wanted something like, “this person interrupts three times in 45 seconds.” i went, “they’re overcompensating for deep insecurities, and here’s what i learned from my own insecurity.”
they wanted to know the mechanism of how a conversation works while i wanted to know the meaning of why we’re so afraid to be seen. both are valid. just fundamentally different approaches to understanding human behavior.
how dare i show up as a soulful, memoir writer when they want a documentary narrator?
i went to bed shocked and i woke up with that familiar sting of rejection in my chest.
you might be wondering, why did you do it then? you’re tired of it, why do it? i thought you hated the 9-5?
two reasons: one, i needed to prove a point. two, i wanted to scratch an itch. what if i get this role and it gives us more leeway?
but then obviously i was met with the same clashing of values and standards. i’ve proven this time and time again:
these traditional systems don’t know what to do with someone like me, they never did. and i don’t know what to do with these traditional systems, i never did.
i used to be a teacher, a profession built entirely on following the rubric, but i find these rigid boxes ridiculous. you know what? one day, when we start looking for people to work for our studio, the first thing i’d do is uncover a person’s edge. i’d rather teach someone to hone a skill and allow them space to execute something totally out of the box, than to stifle them into a strict format and watch their light dim.
here’s what i know for sure: i’m not meant to analyze behavior from a distance. i’m meant to live it, feel it, write from the center of it. they want writers who can watch a clip and say here’s the exact moment the power shifted, here’s the vocal tone change, here’s the body language signal.
i want to write: here’s what heartbreak taught me about codependency. here’s what productivity guilt revealed about my relationship with rest. here’s what money anxiety showed me about survival instinct.
those are two completely different things. and both matter. but only one is mine.
for years i swallowed my pride to survive. i’ve tried so hard to shrink my vast, multidimensional lived experiences into rigid boxes to prove i was capable when i know deep down i’m fundamentally wired to look for the soulful moments that cold mechanics don’t. give. a. fuck. about.
this 7-minute rejection was the universe slamming yet another door to another wrong room to nudge me back to the path of our own room.
a reminder that we don’t have to keep reaching for other people’s standards to win a seat in their room, we can simply build our own.
rejection is hard, and you’re not for everyone.
not everyone’s gonna like the way you think, express yourself, and interpret the world. sometimes you create something you’re truly proud of that others feel differently about. and that’s okay. there’s nothing wrong with you, even if it feels like it. you keep doing you.
remember this is all part of the process. of growing, of building, of evolving.
speaking of…if you’re ready to evolve, this is the perfect time to let you know that the ‘leaving the 9-to-5’ workshop will be opening its doors to the ones who feel this exhaustion of always shrinking yourself to fit into someone else’s box.
if you want to learn how to navigate the self-employed world and finally start, join us on the 23rd of may.
we’ll cover the emotional & psychological toll of leaving, a concrete strategy you can follow, the right resources, platforms, and tools.
and if you’re a writer, i have a special segment for how & where you can start writing online. of course we’ll have guided reflections and space to sit in silence to think.
every spot includes lifetime access to the full recording and our reflection guide (a fillable pdf to help you map your exit plan).
by the end of the workshop, you’ll have officially started your journey.
because you don’t have to wait for permission to do the work you were meant to do.
you just have to start building your own room.
finally, if you’ve spent your life being told your ‘meaning’ is just ‘personal judgment,’ you’re exactly who our studio is for.
stay soulful,
jo from 要素 yōso studio
