I haven't updated my Lockdown Diary in a while, so here it is! Today, I'm writing about my feelings of disappointment after losing a writing contest, and how I tried to overcome it.
I didn't know what to think. At first, I wasn't even thinking, just mindlessly scrolling on the website. Up and down, until my restless mind gave up on trying to will my name to be on the list. From the moment I read my English teacher's email, with first sentence being "I know that this is only the beginning of a very exciting and promising journey for you." I knew what happened deep down. Still, I checked for the third time, it still was the same as before. Was there some kind of mistake? Didn't my name belong on the list? Was I just not good enough? Maybe everyone else is a lot better. Sadness, anger and confusion flood through me like a tsunami. Tears threatened to spill over, and everything faded to a blur. I'd given my time, effort, I poured my entire soul into that piece, but it wasn't good enough. I wasn't good enough.
No matter how hard I tried, how many writing contests I entered, it was always the same. So close yet so far, even though it was my fourth rejection from a writing contest, it hit differently. This time, because I got shortlisted, I could almost taste the sweet golden feeling of victory. It stung, when that victory wasn't mine. I thought I deserved it. Before this moment, rejection was like a mosquito bite. Itchy, but easy to ignore. Every other time, I didn't stand a chance, or it was just a small rejection and there were bigger opportunities ahead. When you nearly make it, when you are so close to achieving, it stings when you don't. Failure is like the Chinese game Seven Pieces. One day you are going strong, with seven pieces in your hand, then suddenly it hits you out of nowhere and you feel like giving up, like you dropped all your seven pieces. I tried to put on a brave face in front of my family and distant acquaintances, but like a dam under pressure, I couldn't control my emotions when one of my closest friends asked how I was doing. Everything spilled over, and I shed tears and tears.
After having a good cry, it was oddly liberating. I'd heard in a TV show that "failure is not falling down, but not getting up again." It sounded like a badly-executed corny motivational speech, and I didn't give it further thought. But it's the truth. I had to keep trying. After sobbing buckets upon buckets of tears, I pulled myself together, and wished my friend, who got the runner up prize, congratulations. It was tough, but now I realised that he deserved it. My writing wasn't bad, but his was exemplary. I know this sounds like a cheesy realisation after failure, but it still stings. I haven't mustered the courage to write another editorial yet, seeing as my first one I ever wrote got rejected in such a disheartening way. But I tried to write again. From blog posts to my novel to English covers for my favorite K-pop songs, step by step I started writing again. When you drop all seven pieces, you need to pick them up, one by one.
コメント