As Seth Godin’s altMBA was coming to a close, I got a message from one of the program leaders asking if I’d be interested in being a program coach for future classes of students.
My initial reaction was a bit like this. I was pumped!
I immediately thought of all the reasons this would be great.
- It was perfectly aligned with the work I do
- I get to meet new, incredible people
- It’s great practice
- It’s great social proof
- It was even paid!
Lock it down. I was going to do that. I quietly celebrated with a couple of close friends.
But first, I would need to take part in two days of activities for the altMBA team to gauge whether I would be a good fit for what they look for in a coach for the program.
So I did that with gusto. I had a different approach it seemed than my peers, but that’s OK. Heck, that could be a good thing!
And after those two days, we were told that we’d be contacted for an interview if it was a fit. So I waited.
And waited.
But I didn’t get a formal interview. I may have an opportunity with future classes, but I wasn’t chosen for one of the very few, competitive spots for this upcoming class.
I’d love a future opportunity and I’d approach it with the same enthusiasm I did here. But the experience was a good reminder of a couple of things:
- It’s so emotionally difficult to put my fate in the hands of others to “pick me.” I had forgotten the stomach-twisting pain of wondering and hoping for someone else to decide my fate.
- Losing one opportunity opens space for another.
As I wrote yesterday, by saying “yes” to that opportunity, I would have been implicitly saying “no” to another. And by being told no, I am able to say yes to something else in my life. (Since then, I’ve engaged three new coaching clients that I’m excited to spend that time with instead).
I think it’s healthy to get rejected. I also think it’s healthy to look at rejection as a redirected opportunity.