A few months ago, I applied for a photography job. One that includes crazy amounts of travel and photography, one that was perfect for me because it combines the two things I love most — photographing life changing moments and travel it was my dream job. It took me months to even get the courage to apply. It got to the point where H would ask me every day if I’d applied. I finally did, in late May. In the minutes (and hours) after I applied, I wavered between feeling so excited I was over the moon, and wanting to puke I was so nervous. This job was amazing. This job would change our lives.
I put it out of my mind. It could be months before they made a decision. But it was perfection. This job was meant for me! I went to WDS, I heard Tess Vigeland speak. I almost cried because every word of what she said resonated with me. And then, in mid-July, I got an email. They wanted to do an interview. This, in itself, was amazing. These positions are so coveted that, on average, over 1,000 people apply to each one. And I got an interview.
I did the phone interview (the job was long distance). We’d just moved to Spokane. I literally sat on the floor, surrounded by packing boxes, talking to someone 3,000 miles away.
And then I waited. And waited. And waited some more. Until I found out I didn’t get the job.
Rejection. That sting never gets old.
But it was okay. Because I took a chance. If I hadn’t applied, then I never would have gotten the interview. And even though I didn’t get it, I did get the satisfaction of knowing they liked my work enough to call me. They thought I might be a good fit. The past year has been about taking chances. The next year will be about taking chances. And the year after that.
I wrote this post LAST AUGUST. As in, 2013. And I was going to add something to it, because it’s been lost in my drafts folder for over a year, but then I realized, it’s good. So here’s a film photo. Because chances.