the brilliance of resilience

A young loved one of mine is currently going through what may be the first major heartbreak of her life.

When I heard this news, I couldn’t help but call her immediately. I felt compelled to be there for her in whatever way I could, as I feel like I’m something of an expert in the heartbreak category.

As an actor, I’ve essentially signed up for a lifetime of heartbreak. Sometimes I feel like I’m in the field of rejection, and my job first and foremost is to perfect the art of resilience.

I try not to live in that headspace for very long, as I feel like that’s just encouraging and welcoming rejection into my life. But at the end of the day, I’m extremely grateful for the coping skills I’ve been developing for basically twenty-odd years.

Rejection is just the pits. There’s no way around that. Especially when it’s totally subjective and doesn’t seem to give an immediate opportunity for growth. You start to hate yourself. You wonder why you put yourself out there in the first place. You doubt everything — your talent, your dedication, your mental fitness, your ability, your beauty, literally anything you have to offer. It’s painful, and it’s personal. It can feel impossible.

But the beauty and the utter reality is, there’s always an opportunity for growth. Sometimes not right away. But it’s always patiently waiting, buried somewhere beneath the surface of the initial heartbreak.

They say that change is the only thing you can rely on in this life. And I’ve found that often, change presents itself in the form of rejection. These sorts of crossroads can already be hard enough to navigate, and then add pain on top of that? Eeeek.

But if you can come to rely on the fact that some rejection is going to be inevitable, leading to this chance for change; you can come to rely on the fact that growth, too, is always inevitable. Or at least available, if you choose to greet the opportunity.

These days, when I’m faced with rejection, I like to give myself about 24 hours — give or take. As an actor, I’m particularly prone to this pain, but at our core we are all creative beings. We all have inner children that want to play and imagine and create. Inner children that don’t want to be told no. So when our adult exteriors are inevitably told no from time to time, we need to tend to our inner children like the little babies they are. They’ve just been denied what they love and need most, so they need a little TLC. So when I’ve invested in something, and put my heart on the line, and it doesn’t work out for me -- I take that really seriously. For about 24 hours.

I give myself the day to do whatever my rejected inner child is crying out for. Sometimes that’s taking yoga. Sometimes that’s going to a movie. A lot of times that’s eating really shitty but really delicious food. I basically allow myself to coddle myself for as long as I can get away with before having to report to my adult responsibilities. And then when the day is up, the coddling is over. While I think there’s much benefit in giving yourself the space to fully feel the pain and sadness of rejection, it’s equally as important to get back on the horse and back to business as quickly as possible. Once you’ve created the space for the healing to begin, it’s time to jump back in and fill it with the possibility of growth.

It’s probably weekly (see: daily) that I wonder why on earth I’ve chosen this lifestyle for myself. Why I’ve set myself up to experience significantly more rejection than the average human has to endure. Why I elect to do something so personal, so vulnerable, that is ultimately going to be judged and scrutinized to death.

But the beautiful thing about resilience is that it’s always there for you if your heart is in it. When you’re faced with rejection, on the precipice of change, you’re greeted with a crossroads. You’re off the hook. You’re given the opportunity then and there to change the course, or even close the chapter. When rejection strikes, you must ask yourself, is my heart still in this?

I’ve been lucky that even on the darkest days, that answer is still yes. Sometimes it’s the faintest voice from the deepest chamber, but it’s there. And if it wasn’t, I know my heart would lead me towards whatever’s next.

If you give yourself an allotted amount of time to grieve, create the space for growth, and listen for how your heart wants to proceed, you’ll unlock some of the best resilience tools on the market.

On those particularly dark days when the rejection is ripe, it’s never too long before I find myself feeling grateful for the skills and endurance I’ve built up over time. The rejection may never get easier (if I’m being honest, it often seems to get harder) but my bounce back time seems to get quicker and quicker.

And that, my friends, is the brilliance of resilience :)

Learning rejection since age 5 when I wanted to play a lamb but was instead cast as a pig. Still sang a solo though 💁🏻🐷