Rejection is one of those things no artist really escapes. Whether it’s a gallery turning you down, a client walking away, or silence after submitting your work to a show you poured your heart into-it stings. And if I’m being honest, it doesn’t always get easier. But over time, I’ve learned that rejection isn’t the end of the road-it’s part of the journey.
In the beginning, every “no” felt personal. I’d question my worth, my talent, even my choice to be an artist at all. I thought rejection meant I wasn’t good enough. But slowly, I started to understand that rejection rarely reflects the full picture. It doesn’t define me, and it certainly doesn’t define my art.
Here’s what l’ve learned:
1. Rejection is not a reflection of your value.
Art is subjective. What speaks deeply to one person might not connect with another at all. Just because someone says “no” doesn’t mean your work isn’t powerful or meaningful. It just means it wasn’t the right fit, at the right time, for the right person.
2. Every “no” builds resilience.
It hurts, yes— but each time l’ve been rejected, l’ve grown stronger. I’ve learned how to sit with disappointment, then stand back up and keep creating. That strength is something I carry into every new project.
3. Rejection teaches you to focus on your why.
When things don’t go your way, you’re forced to remember why you started in the first place. For me, it always comes back to the joy of creating. Not for awards or recognition-but for the love of the process, the message, the magic of bringing something new into the world.
4. Sometimes rejection redirects you to something better.
There have been times when a door closed, and I felt crushed-only to realize later that it made space for an even better opportunity. Trusting that can be hard in the moment, but it’s often true.
5. You are not alone.
Every artist I admire has faced rejection—many, many times. It’s part of this life. We’re all in it together, learning, growing, and creating in spite of the setbacks.
So yes, rejection still stings. But now, I try to see it as feedback, not failure. A temporary stop, not the end of the road. And most importantly, a reminder that I’m still showing up—and that matters more than anything.
