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You’ve probably seen the question floating around the internet that says something like: “If you knew you would succeed after 100 tries, would you start now?”

At first glance, it sounds motivational and inspiring, even. Sure, if I knew that at 101 tries, I would succeed, I absolutely would start now. I’d double up—two tries a day and mark my calendar.

But we don’t get the luxury of knowing how many tries, how many rejections, or how many failures until we hit gold.

And the older I get, with more rejections stacking up, the more I realize the real power of rejection is not in if we survived it. But rather, what it reveals.

Because every rejection eventually asks us the same question: Do you really want this?

Not casually. Not theoretically. Not when it’s easy, or exciting, or externally validated.

Rejection really asks if we still want it before it’s actually arrived.

It asks do you still want it when no one is clapping yet?

When the emails go unanswered?

When the opportunity goes to someone else?

When your confidence takes a hit?

When your timeline falls apart?

I’ve experienced rejection in many forms throughout my career and personal life. Haven’t we all?

Some rejections are small enough to brush off. Others are significant enough to make me pause and question everything.

And every single time, I found myself standing at the same internal crossroads:

Should I change direction?

What do I need to learn from this?

Am I forcing something that isn’t meant for me?

Or am I simply being asked to become stronger, wiser, clearer, and more prepared for where I’m trying to go?

That distinction matters because not every rejection is a sign to quit. Sometimes rejection is asking for refinement.

Right now, I’m in the middle of seeking literary representation for my book. Which means I am actively collecting rejection letters from literary agents and publishers.

Some are kind.

Some are brief.

Some are simply silence.

And while there have absolutely been moments of disappointment, something unexpected happened too:

The rejection hasn’t weakened my desire.

It has sharpened it.

Each “no” has forced me to revisit the deeper reason I started writing in the first place. It wasn’t for validation or applause and certainly not because I thought the path would be easy.

I started writing because I genuinely believe in the message. And strangely enough, rejection has made me more committed to honoring it well.

I’ve become more polished in my pitch.

More intentional in my writing.

More aware of where I need to grow.

More strategic about the path forward.

Rejection has a way of exposing the difference between a passing interest and a deeply rooted calling. Because when something truly matters to you, rejection should not extinguish the desire.

It should clarify it.

That doesn’t mean we blindly stay on the same exact path no matter what. There’s wisdom in reevaluation too.

Sometimes rejection invites us to adjust our approach.

To seek mentorship.

To develop new skills.

To ask better questions.

To find allies who have walked the road before us.

Sometimes the destination remains the same but the route evolves.

And I believe this applies to nearly every meaningful pursuit in life.

Careers.

Relationships.

Creativity.

Healing.

Leadership.

Entrepreneurship.

Personal reinvention.

Anything worthwhile eventually asks something of us.

Patience.

Resilience.

Humility.

Courage.

Adaptability.

And rejection often becomes the uncomfortable but necessary mirror reflecting back our level of commitment. Because it’s easy to say we want something when the doors are opening.

The real question is:

Who do we become when they don’t?

Do we collapse entirely?

Or do we get quieter, clearer, wiser, and more devoted to the vision?

I think one of the greatest misconceptions about successful people is that they somehow avoided rejection. Or that their road was easy—or easier—than most.

The most successful people didn’t avoid rejection. They simply stopped interpreting rejection as proof they were unworthy, or proof that they couldn’t succeed.

Instead, they allowed it to refine them.

To strengthen their voice.

To clarify their intentions.

To sharpen their craft.

And most importantly, to deepen their conviction.

There’s a difference between forcing a path that no longer aligns and abandoning a dream simply because the road becomes uncomfortable.

Only you can discern the difference.

But I do believe this:

If every rejection keeps bringing you back to the same desire…

If the answer continues to be “yes”…

If something inside you still lights up despite the setbacks…

Then there is something sacred in that persistence.

It’s not stubbornness or ego or delusion.

It’s just a deep knowing that the vision still belongs to you.

So maybe rejection isn’t always asking us to stop.

Maybe sometimes it’s asking:

How committed are you really?

And maybe the goal isn’t to let rejection destroy the desire.

Maybe the goal is to let it sharpen it.

~

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