Rejections and opportunities

This month has been one of shocks and rejections. At the end of February, I received the news that I was going to be made redundant and I left my job in the middle of March and have been job hunting all the while. It’s not fun. Going from trying to buy a house (which sadly fell through) to losing your job (despite feeling like you were finally making progress at the organisation) is not the way I was expecting 2025 to start.

Rejections are hard. And when you suffer with depression your mind starts to tell you things that are not true but which you believe anyway. Every rejection means I’m not good enough. Every rejection means I’m not wanted. Every rejection means I am worthless. Every rejection means I’d be better off dead. I know these things are wrong, but every rejection brings with it the questions of what did I do wrong, or what could I have done differently or better? And it eats you alive.

So, I sit here with the ticking time bomb of my three months’ notice period pay trying my damnedest to find a job so that my world doesn’t implode further. I’m sad and I’m angry that I’ve been put in this position. And I’m frustrated that again the ever mythical ‘not enough experience’ excuse is out in full-force as it always has been.

I know I have enough experience. I’ve worked across theatre, local government, higher education, and charity/non-profits. I’ve managed websites from small ones like my personal site to behemoth thousand-page sites. I’ve dealt with and written content covering everything from parks to elections to course details. I’ve been the jack-of-all-trades marketing person for so many different organisations, delivering writing, designing, photography, videography, research, training, cost analysis, automation, and more. I’ve gone above and beyond every single time, and people are constantly saying I am lovely to talk to and a pleasure to work with. And yet it feels like this never matters and I’m left descending into that abyss of self-doubt while still trying to claw my way out and sell myself with a smile on my face.

I write all this, as I historically have done, to try to get all my feelings out. To put my thoughts out into the world to show people that they’re not alone (and I suppose in the hopes that people will respond and tell me I’m not alone either).

There is one positive in all of this. The time opened up by being without employment is enabling me to look at other opportunities out there for me. It’s allowed me to redesign my website and drastically improve its accessibility. It’s allowed me to begin turning my current books into audiobooks. It will in theory also allow me to finally finish a few jobs I’ve had on my to-do list for ages. But it’s also potentially pushing me to look at other ways I can make the most of my skills and talents.

One idea I’ve had is putting myself out there for bespoke poetry commissions. I was proud to write the poem I read out at my sister’s wedding, and I’d love to be able to use that same creativity to help others put their thoughts and feelings and memories into words for their own special occasions. It’s scary to try to attempt that in a world where AI seems to be taking over all the creative fields, but I wonder if it might be my path to success if this job hunt continues beyond what I can afford. We will have to see.

If you’re interested in commissioning me, please do send me a message and we can discuss what you’re after. And maybe this is the start of my future again.