When I posted my story last night, I was not expecting the number of kind messages I received.
If you didn't see it, I shared something not-so-picture-perfect and something that usually we don't choose to highlight on social media: a rejection.
For the past few months, I'd been working with a publisher about the possibility of a book. I had a manuscript I'd presented to them, and we'd been working together on different drafts, edits, etc. Ultimately, yesterday, they decided that they felt my message was important and my writing was good, but they didn't feel it was necessary to publish a book when I already was writing a blog.
This obviously wasn't the first time I'd gotten rejected from a publisher (it comes with the trade), but it was the most involved and active I'd gotten with one before the "no" finally hit the table.
In the moment, this stung. It still stings, to be honest. It took my inner, negative dialogue and thrust it into someone else's mouth: "Maybe you're JUST a blogger. Who are you to think you should write a book? Who are you to think a book is right for you?" But I recalled something my teacher @jenni_justbeyoga taught me a long time ago, the idea of not absorbing other people's opinions and experiences to the extent that they drown out your inner belief. My mind was filled with her mantra: "Maybe for you, but not for me." Their truth is that they don't want to publish my writings, and there is nothing wrong with holding that perspective. But MY truth is that I've always had a book inside of me, and I'm just waiting for it to find the right home.
So thank you, to everyone who offered their advice and even just words of support. What touched me most were those who thanked me for not just sharing the "pretty" stuff and instead showing something a little uglier. To me, that's living fearlessly authentically.
And to everyone who said they want to read my book one day, thank you for lighting a fire under my ass again. Love and light.