Fuck the Rejection Challenge.
I was doing some light research on the topic of rejection sensitive dysphoria (RSD) and I came across a subreddit about how not to give a fuck, a TEDtalk on the rejection challenge, and a ton of tweets about people who purposely subjected themselves to rejection to numb themselves against the pain.
I got rejected in three big ways this week. The first was a journal I’ve been going back & forth with since December 2019 on a paper about union organizing. The second was an anti-racism review gig with a textbook company who offered me a rate below industry standard and didn’t accept my counter offer. The third was a university lecturing position. As I transition from finishing my doctorate to jumping back into the Work-Work force, as I like to call it, I’m facing a ton of potential rejections. It makes me kinda queasy to even think about.
Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) is this way of retraining how your brain looks at a bad situation. In this case, people are trying to pseudoscience their way into hacking RSD, and they do outlandish challenges. It’s not actually CBT even if it claims to use the same principles, because it’s not guided or thoughtful exposure. Here’s an example. One blog suggested asking a stranger for $100. But does that represent the real world rejection you’re likely to face? When you ask for a raise, you’re not asking a stranger for money in exchange for nothing. So the rejection challenge takes the idea, “What’s the worst they could say? No?” to an extreme. But does it work? And why bother?
My rejection was tied to the following: the journal didn’t want to publish something they didn’t feel was applicable to teachers all across the US, the textbook company didn’t want to pay me a standard rate because they wanted something cheap, and the university didn’t hire me because I don’t have a visa to work in London.
If you have RSD, you know that a rejection can lead to a shame spiral and the desire to withdraw completely. That doesn’t work. It makes me feel worse. But the solution is not to go out seeking more rejection so that I can numb my brain. That pits me against my brain! And I don’t WANT to be numb. Feeling things is awful but sometimes there’s a lesson, and numbing oneself against rejection means ignoring what it can teach.
Ok, before I lose you, I don’t think bad things happen simply to teach us shit. That way of thinking is harmful. My tough childhood wasn’t God’s way of making me stronger. My losses didn’t make me a better mom. So when I say there might be a lesson, I don’t mean bad things happen for a reason.
What I mean is: rejection can sometimes be cruel and pointless, but it can also teach us what we’re up against. Getting offered an insultingly low rate showed me how to advocate for myself and others. I spoke with a good friend who told me that the lower I offer to go, me with all my experience and my advanced degree, the lower people will expect to pay in general. So if I agree to do a job at $15 an hour instead of $100, that company can now go to an activist who doesn’t have a doctorate or a decade of teaching experience and say, “If Bunny will do it for $15, why should I pay you any more than that?” Undervaluing my work doesn’t just hurt me — it hurts anyone who comes after me.
Instead of doing a rejection challenge, I analyzed the actual reasons I’d already been rejected. I sat down with my discomfort and asked if it was because I was not good enough. The answer was: no. My brain was being mean and drawing conclusions out of thin air. And doing a rejection challenge to numb myself against that pain wouldn’t help me the next time someone rejects me. It would teach me to not care, not respond heartfully. And what I need right now is to respond with everything I’ve got.
If you want to do the rejection challenge meaningfully with the help of a trained CBT therapist, career coach, or workbook, go for it. But I don’t think you should just start doing a bunch of things that aren’t tied to your goals just to numb yourself from the pain of being told no.
