I’ve applied for about three internships so far — I know, massive accomplishment — and with each I’ve tried to pseudo-exposure therapy myself into being OK with not hearing back. I’ll reiterate to my boyfriend and parents again and again that my application will probably just disappear into the void, and that’ll be that. But the truth is, with everything I’ve ever applied to, whether that be a job or a group or an internship, I desperately want to succeed. I imagine how my life would look in that position, having already created a mental image of Brynn the store employee, Brynn the social media intern or Brynn the contest winner. 

Honestly, I’ve reached a point where I kind of want to just avoid applying for anything at all. I mean, hey, if I never tried, then I was technically never rejected. That’s the funny thing about me. I’m simultaneously ambitious but also absolutely terrified of ever being denied something I went after. I’ve made the first move in all of my relationships, joined a whole host of clubs and tried for leadership positions in almost all of them. I’ll apply to jobs across the country that barely match my actual criteria, and I literally begged my high school journalism teacher to let me be editor-in-chief of the paper even after having not actually been in the newsroom for a semester — and I got it. 

Perhaps this is the real problem at the end of the day. I’ve been incredibly lucky to achieve many of the things I’ve gone after. I was deemed gifted in second grade and kind of ran with that superiority complex ever since. But it is entirely inevitable we will get rejected, and I’ve had my fair share. Boys, internships, jobs. With each rejection message — or, more likely, complete ghosting — I let a piece of myself internalize it entirely. I failed. 

And I know I’m not the only one constantly battling this fear. Failure is the food of every procrastinator — the demon behind every overachiever. It’s reached a point where people will call themselves failures over things that are barely mistakes. So why do we let ourselves be so consumed by this fear? What’s so bad about failing? 

First, we have to address the different kinds of failure or, at least, the most common diagnoses. Perhaps most universally relatable is the general career or personal achievement failure. Applying for something like a job or award and getting rejected. Then you have romantic failure, which can take many different faces, everything from getting ghosted after a first date to ending a years-long relationship. Then there are all the little miscellaneous failures, like not getting your bid for a university apartment or failing to set a new PR at the gym. Each of these offers a different challenge. 

Career failures often lead to spirals about the future. If you couldn’t get that job, then how are you ever going to get any job? I guess you’re just gonna end up homeless with no money. Meanwhile, romantic failures can have similar future spirals but also lead to a different kind of self-doubt. There must be something wrong with you if no one’s asked you out yet, and obviously, that guy thinks you’re indescribably ugly because he never called you back. Miscellaneous failures can feel like the others, but introduce another aspect of failure. It really just starts to feel like the universe is against you when every door you try to open is slammed in your face. 

There are two lessons to learn here, and they’re opposites, weirdly enough. On one hand, failure should be embraced because it can be a vital way to learn from a mistake or improve yourself. Maybe you shouldn’t have only talked about yourself for that entire date. Maybe your resume needs some adjusting that can be easily accomplished by asking a professional. Maybe you just need to train a little more, take another class or go to therapy. If we got everything we ever wanted, we’d stay totally stagnant because there’d be no reason not to. 

But on the other hand, sometimes this “grow from failure” is a load of crap. More often than not, these “failures” actually had very little to do with you at all. Maybe that job never called back because they were looking to hire someone with a different major but didn’t share that. That girl who randomly stopped texting you was actually going through a personal struggle and just couldn’t juggle a relationship on top of that. The universe isn’t plotting against you. At the end of the day, sometimes it’s really just not about you at all. 

We are so quick to label anything not turning out how we want it to as a failure when that’s just life. Things will inevitably not always turn out how you imagined, and the cards will not always be in your favor. The only true failure is if we give up, close ourselves off and stop trying because we’ve decided it’s already a lost cause. It’s the only true failure because we’re failing ourselves. 

Right now, Pitt Tonight is narrowing down candidates for a new host. With each rejection, I wish I could give every applicant a personal apology. And as we approach the final round, I know with every fiber of my being that the decision we inevitably make will not be because anyone was totally awful and ill-suited for the role. It’ll come down to semantics or a vision for the show that has absolutely nothing to do with the performances. Right after this, we’ll have to pick head writers, and I know it’ll be a similar struggle. If we could give every funny, qualified person in the club an executive position, it would be a club full of execs.  

Being on the other side of a decision like this gives me the insight to realize that the times I’ve been rejected were not because I was inherently flawed as a person or worthless and doomed for failure. Sometimes it just doesn’t work out, and the same characteristic that might’ve kept me from one job makes me perfectly suited for another. The best I can do is to try and separate my personal worth and view of myself from perceived successes and failures, and try, try again.