On Rejection – Intro (New York Model Management)

Many problems that revolve around self-worth (among them depression) seem to stem partly from the inability to deal with rejection in a constructive way.

From the words you read on this blog, I may come off as confident and determined and able to brush off anything, but you should know that for the overwhelming majority of my life, I was quite possibly the most insecure person I’ve ever known.

Again, it is very important for you to understand that although I now have the strength and the willingness to put myself in very uncomfortable situations for the sake of getting things done, at one point in my life I was painfully unsure of myself.

A lot of that had to do with perfectionism and the intimately related fear of failure, and for several other reasons too, but for now I will focus on the inability to handle rejection.

Rejection-sensitivity, whether in the form of fear beforehand or a negative reaction afterwards, is one of the biggest inhibitors to success. This is the case when it comes to personal successes, yes, but also the more tangible successes, like making money, for instance.

If used properly, rejection should educate you of your shortcomings while simultaneously fueling your desire to succeed.

That is, it first gives you some of the tools you need to succeed (self-knowledge and awareness), and then the motivation to succeed (“I will prove wrong everyone who doubted me, even myself if necessary”).

The only costs to making full use of rejection are courage and the willingness to suspend your ego.



Both of these can and must be practiced.

You could probably, if you tried hard enough, artificially create the psychological circumstances that would allow you to practice the skill of commanding rejection. But I’d strongly advocate you skip the training wheels and just put yourself in real situations right away. Why slow the process down?

To illustrate a little of the kind of mindset I’m talking about, let me go personal-anecdotal for a moment:

Late Monday afternoon, I finally procured my comp cards from Model Club Inc., the modeling agency that represents me in Boston (a comp card is sort of like a photo resume). For the first time, I finally (I guess) earned the right to meet the director of the agency. He told me I shouldn’t have too much trouble finding jobs in Boston because I can pass for a wide age range – from late teens all the way to late twenties.

Well, given that I’ll be spending at least my weekends in NYC for the next few months, I figured I’d take my comp cards to modeling agencies in NYC and try to model there too. On the DL, of course, although it’s actually allowed according to my contract, since as a model I’m technically considered “self-employed” even though I (and the agency) have certain obligations.

Anyway, immediately after I drove back from Boston, I checked online for open calls in NYC. It turned out New York Model Management would be holding one the very next day from 10:30 to 11:30 AM.

Not one to wait (time = jobs = money), I called up a friend (shoutout to my good friend Andrew), asked if I could crash at his place, then drove the 5 hours back to Princeton, arriving late at night and bone-tired from the day and the commute.

Bright and early next morning, I was on a train to NYC. About twenty minutes before 10:30, I got to New York Model Management on the 7^th floor of 596 Broadway, and rather quickly I realized I was out of my league. I knew this because according to some of their literature, they represent Sports Illustrated Swimsuit models and lay claim to the #1 male model in the industry (whatever that means).

Needless to say, I was rejected. I did make it farther than some of the (much better dressed) models, though. People w/o comp cards were straight out turned away, and frankly some of these hawt guys were just too arrogant for their own good.

But I didn’t even make it through the opaque glass walls, to the area where you could hear the VIPs were contentedly chatting about what sounded like absolute horseshit.

That’s one thing you may be interested to know about hot shot modeling agencies: to cover up what sounds to the objective outsider like a bunch of elitist assholery (maybe there’s more to it when you peel the onion), they hire the nicest guy possible as the front-man. That guy was nice…softspoken, and polite, and brotherly, and the antithesis of what the other people seemed to be like.

But I digress.

The very kind front-man went in with my comp card and my application, and ten seconds later came out with my (rapid) rejection, blunted ever so slightly by his softspoken voice. He then repeated this exact same process with 4 other models – only one of us made it through, at least during the first minutes of the open call, and I have no idea if he actually made any progress beyond that. (Judging by the photos that lined their walls, they were going more for either dangerous hipster, or Euro-sophistication w/Nordic features…that kind of feel…no Asians in sight)

But here’s the important part: after our rapid succession of rejections, he offered to give each of us a list of legitimate modeling agencies in NYC, and their numbers.

Some of my fellow rejects rejected this peace offering. Others took it (seemingly) lackadaisically, glanced at it, then shoved it away.

I looked at this thing like it was a big nugget of gold.

Alright, it wasn’t that precious, but it really was a lot more convenient than having to individually research agencies online. Turns out there are some bogus agencies out there, and sometimes they even purchase real estate and hire people to set up a front and con people. It would be a pain in the ass to have to check the Better Business Bureau for the legitimacy ratings of every single agency you stumble upon.

So in short – HOW I HANDLED MY REJECTION:

I stood just outside the waiting room of New York Model Management and called up every single modeling agency on the list (36 of them), and found out the dates and times of their open calls (many don’t do open calls, and many don’t represent men).

It’s 6:30 AM right now, and in half an hour or so, I’ll be in my car, on my way to Princeton Junction to catch a train to New York Penn Station.

And I’ll be doing this every single day for the rest of the week.

Do I really care about modeling? No.

I hardly ever treat my pursuits this lightly, but in the long run I honestly don’t give a shit about modeling (what blasphemy). In the short run here and now, I badly need the money, but to some extent, I even vehemently resent the whole industry for what it represents and for what it encourages, both in its models and in society as a whole.

Still, I recognize that it’s an art form, and that some people derive value from creating it or from looking at/wearing its products. I see modeling as an opportunity to make some much needed money, to network with people who might one day help me, and to possibly gain attention that I can leverage to my advantage. Above all, I see it as a chance to learn – to acquire a deeper understanding of myself, to better understand other people, and to apply this knowledge to our venture and anything else I will ever choose to pursue. You never know whom you might meet, or what you might learn, that will give you an epiphany of understanding, or an incredible opportunity. So don’t nix those chances by fearing rejection, or handling it negatively.

The point is, I embraced my rejection and turned it into opportunity, and eventually into a story.

After it's all said and done, that's what everything becomes - just a story.

And at the end of the day, that’s all you’ve got – your memories. Strip away everything I have, and I’ll still have my memories to keep me company. Throw me in solitary, and I’ll try my damn hardest to cling to my memories as an anchor to keep me sane. That’s how Sirius survived Azkaban, is it not? (sorry, but my generation = Harry Potter)

Some of the best stories come from rejection. Rejection stories are battle scars, and you can learn from them and even use them to entertain.

So with all of this in mind, I’ve decided to start a series of posts on Rejection, of which this is the introductory post, where I will chronicle my (sure to be) many rejections and draw out the humor and insight in them.

Hopefully you’ll learn a bit about what it’s like to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and go at it again…and again…and again…and again.

Keep in mind that through time and practice (and to some extent necessity), I’ve fully 180ed my strong innate tendency to doubt myself. At some point, I will almost certainly share with you more stories from my past, to fully illustrate the full extent of this reversal.

And I absolutely am nothing special – anyone can do the same.

So check back in for more of my rejection stories! Feel free to share your own stories too!

-David

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