On a singular day last week, I had the unfortunate experience of 1) being rejected for a writing internship and 2) not winning an academic paper award that I’d submitted to. To top it all of, a few days later, I was also not chosen for ANOTHER writing job, an extra disappointing rejection because I’d felt fairly confident and proud of my application. In fact, I was reasonably hopeful that I would get the position (ah, the naivety).

So if you’re keeping track, that’s now three (3) positions/awards having to do with writing that I failed to obtain, all in the same week. Perhaps that’s why last night I dreamed about being rejected from an imaginary writing position that my dream-self had apparently previously applied to. In an extra cruel twist, the rejection email both mentioned my name and the topic I had written on, but not as a winner. Just as an aside that recapped what applicants had written about.

And you know what? This week WAS unfortunate. These rejections were unfortunate, because fortune is simply defined "prosperity attained partly through luck" (according to Merriam-Webster, at least). And the fact remains that these rejections were based partly on luck. Of course, skill had a lot to do with it: editors and employers (hopefully, presumably) aren’t picking through applications at random, choosing one arbitrarily the way a magician asks you to choose a random card. Without a doubt, the skill of my writing had a lot to do with these rejections.

At the same time, there are other factors to consider, factors that bring fortune into the equation. Unlike math or science, where there is one distinguishable “right” answer, writing is not so cut-and-dry. The individual tastes and opinions of editors influence their decision-making process. It’s possible for a writer to produce one piece that an editor will hate and another piece than the same editor will love. To a certain extent, writing is biased pursuit. It’s not programming, where your superior can pick out the flaw in your code; or architecture, where the flaw in your structural plan for a building can be singled out. In writing, even if your grammar is impeccable, there are a thousand other elements of the work that could turn off editors. Maybe they dislike the subject matter. Maybe they don’t like the tone of voice. Maybe it simply isn’t grabbing them.

For a long time, I was incapable of properly processing rejection. As someone who defines herself as “a writer,” writing has always been my foremost source of identity. Any experience that contradicted this identity—such as a rejection from a writing position—would knock down my ego so badly that it couldn’t get back up again. Any rejection or criticism of my writing crippled my self-esteem and swung the door wide open for self-doubt and self-hatred to walk right into, take a seat at the table, put their feet up, and stay awhile.

However, rejection and criticism are inevitable aspects of being a writer. In fact, they are inevitable aspects of life in general, but they were especially challenging for me to accept when it came to my writing. And yet “the road to success is paved with failure,” or, as any writer will tell you, paved with countless rejections and revisions. We all the J.K. Rowling story of how many times “Harry Potter” was rejected before being finally accepted for publication.

Now, I find myself able to handle rejection with a much more reasonable attitude. I know that rejection and criticism of my writing isn’t a rejection or criticism of me as a person. It’s not even a rejection or criticism of my total potential as a writer: simply a rejection of the singular piece that I submitted and the editor read. Perhaps in the future, I will submit another piece that the editor will love. Or grow as a writer and rework my previous piece into one that fits the editor’s standards.

For me, the key to accepting rejection without an emotional reaction was realizing that only a singular piece in a singular iteration is being rejected. Not me as a person. Not even me as a writer. Just one piece at one moment in time, and nothing more.

So yes, the last week has been unfortunate. But I also had a fortunate week a month ago where I was published in two literary magazines in one day. Whether you’re currently in an unfortunate or fortunate position, don’t let rejection dissuade you from writing, and don’t let it harm your emotional health. The only rejection that you need to worry about is your own self-rejection of your skills and potential. If you overcome that rejection, none of the others truly matter.