Rejection sucks more than the vacuum department of a Sears store!
I huffed and puffed and blew around the house for a while. I whined to my ever-patient husband who read the email and pointed out all the nice things.
Then, for the first time, I reached out to my writing gals and pals. Notes dinged into my inbox and across my page offering cabana boys, chocolate, margaritas, and hugs. Empathy and encouragment filled the messages.
Little by little, I was cured of the rejection blues by the kind words of dear friends and cyber friends.
I’m back in the chair with my hands on the keyboard. My skin hasn’t been thickened by rejection, but strenghthened by friendship.
© Joan Leacott 2011