I was incredibly touched by how many of you read (and commented on) yesterday’s post. I did feel your love and support, so first and foremost, thank you for that. I wrote the post on a whim, and if I’m being honest, my ego was likely the culprit. I was still smarting from the rejection–even though a week had passed–and was craving a little sympathy, love, and affirmation. I was also thrilled that so many of you were reading my posts again after my long hiatus, and knew this would make for compelling reading and get me lots of views (another ego boost). So, yeah. Not the healthiest of intentions. But here’s the cool part: though I wrote it for all the wrong reasons, a lot of good ultimately came from it because, as is often the case with writing (and getting feedback on that writing), it helped me make sense of the experience, expand my perspective, and see the good that came out of the audition.
What I Realized
+++ Hearing Tough Feedback is Hard But Necessary. I knew this at one point in my life, but hadn’t been in work environments or other situations for two years that would have subjected me to hard feedback. In essence, my skin had gotten thin again and I’d forgotten what the value is in feedback. After reflecting more on this experience, I was reminded that, ultimately, no matter how hard the feedback is to hear, I do appreciate (and will reflect on and learn from) any constructive criticism I’m given. Because that’s ultimately how humans grow and learn. Do I wish the director had been a little more MN Nice in how she gave her feedback? For sure! (Feedback sandwich, anyone??)
+++ I Got too Caught Up on the Rejection Part. As my first music teacher so eloquently stated in her comment, there is another way to look at this: if the director thought I couldn’t sing, she wouldn’t have told me to pursue lessons and come back again the following year. What the initial rejection prevented me from seeing was that she DID think I could do this, but only if I put the work in. Which, when I step back and think about it, is fair. I’m willing to work for things I really want. It’s not realistic to think I can stop choral singing for 10 years and expect to get into a competitive choir. It was my bad for not doing my homework and for making the assumption that this was a casual community choir, when it fact it was something different.
+++ I Want Joy, Not Rigor Right Now. The hands-down best thing that came out of this was clarity about what I’m actually looking for in a choir. I do NOT want a rigorous, serious choir right now. With the stress of getting settled in a new place and another international move on the horizon, what I want from music right now is the joy and stress-relief that I derive from it, along with a little community on the side to make me feel connected in this new place. So rejection aside, I do think it was a blessing that I didn’t get in because that wasn’t the kind of choir I was actually looking for.
+++ I Have Old Trauma Around This. And finally, Emily and Robin’s comments reminded me that the majority of my singing happened between the ages of 10 and 25, back when people-pleasing and perfectionism were the name of my game. This experience brought up the old trauma of being rejected three times from show choir in high school and never getting a lead in a musical, all of which made me feel ‘not enough’ at the time. I still struggle with feelings of ‘not enoughness’ but have worked hard to eschew the people-pleasing, perfectionist side of my personality. This experience was similar enough to those that it triggered old, painful memories and the icky feelings I had around them. Which was probably why I was having trouble putting this experience behind me.
+++ I Have No Regrets. Even though I’ve never been ‘the best’ singer, I have always loved singing with all my being. Singing takes me to my happy place and is one of the truest expressions of my soul. And while I didn’t always get the solo or admittance to the elite singing group, I was still always up on the stage or altar singing my heart out, and those memories are the ones I cherish most from my childhood and early adult life. To my music teachers–Mrs. McCue, Joe, Karen, Mr. A, Jeff and Lynn–thank you for nurturing my love of music and teaching me how to express myself through it. I am a more confident, resilient, happier person because I sang in your choirs.
