Courage

"Creativity takes courage."

—Henry Matisse

I have been searching for work since I graduated last December. I have filled out and submitted dozens of applications, but there have been no interviews—nothing but rejection after rejection. It has been really disheartening.

Then, I opened my email this morning. There it was! My very first interview offer after four months of searching. I eagerly typed out my reply—yes, I would meet with them—but something stopped me.

I read through the email again. The company name was unfamiliar. I opened the spreadsheet where I’ve been keeping meticulous notes on every application. To my dismay, it wasn’t there. I looked up the company on LinkedIn, searched for the person listed as the point of contact, and found it was a real person with a real company. So I copied the letter.

“Does this sound like a scam?” I typed into ChatGPT.

I watched the answer populate, and my heart sank. ChatGPT agreed with me. Something was off. The email address wasn’t the professional one from the company. The wording felt strange. The contact link was suspicious. On top of that, they were asking for a remarkably quick turnaround and pressuring me to respond. It all aligned with what I had already been feeling.

On the extremely remote chance that there is a real person somewhere genuinely wanting to offer me a job, I reached out to the contact on LinkedIn to ask about the email. I'm not even sure I’ll get a response.

It’s so discouraging. I have the skills, I have the talent, I have the drive to work hard and continuously grow in the industry—but so far, I haven’t had the opportunity. This false hope stung even more than the rejections. Anger and grief washed over me as I briefly indulged in a self-pitying cry. I will never understand the kind of person who preys on the tender feelings and desperation of others.

Each rejection, each scam, leaves me feeling diminished—less sure of myself and my abilities, less certain of my future. The voices in my head scream that I’m not good enough, that I’ll never be good enough. That I’m not worthy of notice. That my accomplishments somehow mean less. I try to tell those voices to shut up. To return to the hell from whence they came.

I lean on the people around me—those who see how hardworking and talented I am—and I try to replace those doubts with faith: their faith in me, my faith in myself, and the belief that God has a plan, and the right opportunity will come.

Sometimes I don’t want to keep going, but I know what the next step is. The next step is to pick up a pencil, a paintbrush, or a stylus. To calm myself in the joy I find through creating. I know that if I can gather the courage to continue on my creative journey, the act of creation will support me through the next rejection or scam—until I find the place that will become my creative home.