FINDING AHIRE PURPOSE

After a promised new role in marketing went sour, Taryn de Vere decided to turn the idea of rejection on its head by applying for a dream job every single day for 30 days. Here’s how she got on

Getting rejected is usually something people shy away from. The idea of rejection doesn’t tend to inspire confidence, joy or excitement, but I’ve experienced all those feelings and much more from a month spent actively seeking out career rejections.

Earlier this year, I thought I was starting a new job in marketing in Donegal. However, I was barely in the door when I was told that head office in Dublin hadn’t sanctioned the hire and were, instead, downsizing the marketing team. My exciting new job had turned into sudden and unexpected unemployment. I had a few moments of heart-thud that threatened to escalate into fullblown panic — how would I provide for my kids, pay for rent, food and electricity? Then I decided to re-frame the experience and view it as an opportunity instead.

TikTok is full of people talking about “rejection therapy” and how they use it to inoculate themselves from the pain of rejection. Many of the challenges are flippant, such as asking people in shops for free things and other similar requests that are almost certainly going to get a refusal.

The idea is the more you hear no, the less it hurts so the braver you become in turn.

I’d seen one young woman on TikTok talking about how she used rejection therapy to apply for jobs she was wholly unqualified for and how this had landed her an amazing well-paid job. It planted a seed in my mind: what if I used rejection therapy to apply for amazing new jobs? And so the “Dream Job Rejection Challenge” was born.

I undertook to do the challenge every day for 30 days. The rules were to pitch, propose and put myself forward for dream jobs, gigs and opportunities with the aim of getting rejected. I decided to share my challenges each day on social media to ensure I’d actually do it by making myself accountable to other people. Making rejection the goal of the challenge took the pressure off me but made my proposals fun rather than weighted with deep meaning. I only applied for roles I genuinely felt I was able to do and where I believed my contribution would add value to the organisation I was pitching to. I didn’t want my proposals to waste anyone’s time including mine. I wanted these to be considered as real possibilities.

The day after I found out I was unemployed I sent off my first proposal. This was to the Hugh Lane Gallery in Dublin. I proposed to them that I create a piece of living art where I dress to reflect pieces in the gallery and walk around engaging with visitors. As an experienced performance artist I’m well qualified to do this — but, more importantly, I thought it would be fun.

I put a lot of effort into my proposals, pitches and campaign ideas. Some of them took 14 hours or more to put together. As I only had a day to do each one, that meant there were some “Dream Jobs” I couldn’t apply for as the proposals would take much longer to put together.

The first two weeks of the challenge were intense. I felt incredibly uncomfortable sending off proposals and pitches. My internal monologue was

something like this: “Who on earth do you think you are to be proposing yourself for this? How dare you. These jobs aren’t for people like you.”

However, my first rejection, from Jameson Whiskey, was lovely and supportive, which served to remind me how the people at the other end of my emails were just that: people.

As I slowly became more comfortable, the biggest difficulty became finding something new to pitch each day. I’ve already had an extremely varied work history so in some ways, I’ve already ticked off some of my “Dream Jobs”. This made coming up with 30 different things difficult. I started the challenge with a fairly short list made up mostly of ideas I already had and pitched to places where I had a contact already. This ensured my proposals would be seen by a decision maker. I milked friends for contact emails and asked my Instagram followers if they knew anyone working in the specific places I pitched to. I had to become rather shameless through the challenge, but I figured if I didn’t take it seriously then no one else would either.

By about day 10 I was all out of ideas. I decided to go with the flow and let the events of the day inspire me. I was living on the edge as I had a major time constraint, but it seemed to work.

One morning while eating breakfast I saw an Instagram reel of a woman who had been offered a movie deal from a book pitch she’d posted on TikTok. That expanded my idea of what’s possible. I didn’t know we existed in a world where a 40-second pitch for a fantasy book could get optioned by Hollywood.

So my Day 12 pitch was just that, a pitch for a fantasy book I haven’t even written (but absolutely am willing to write if there’s a book

My internal monologue went: ‘Who on earth do you think you are to be proposing yourself for this? How dare you. These jobs aren’t for people like you’

deal or a movie rights option on the table).

Over the course of the 30 days, I pitched articles and pieces of writing to literary agents, publishing houses, literary journals and even the New York Times. I pitched a Joyful News segment to Jennifer Zamparelli’s show on RTÉ 2FM and a crafting segment to Ireland AM.

I suggested to TK Maxx that they hire me to do live window displays. I proposed creating Pinspiration cafes for Pinterest and pitched a fashion upcycling show to Ikea. I created several proposals for advertising campaigns, one for a supermarket which would involve people being challenged to make meals out of foods in a single colour, before throwing a rainbow feast. Another, pitched to Fáilte Ireland, was to market Ireland as a winter destination by painting the fleeces of live sheep as though they were wearing Aran jumpers.

I even pitched an idea to the Government to appoint me to the honorary position of Minister for Joy, with the promise I would ensure a fairer distribution of joy to everyone living in Ireland. Sadly the Government didn’t take me up on that (but there is an election coming up, so watch this space.)

For the most part, I applied for and proposed jobs and gigs that didn’t exist (yet). However, there were a few exceptions. While I was undertaking the challenge I was watching again the Netflix comedy drama Call My Agent!, which gave me the idea of working in a talent agency. I looked online, saw a job being advertised in an Irish agency, and applied for it. The closing date for applications has only just passed, so who knows: I might still get an interview for that job.

I also came across a festival that was seeking submissions for performance art pieces. I won’t hear back on whether my application for that was successful until next month. I suspect lots of the things I pitched for are still out there in the ether, working away on my behalf in one form or another.

Over the 30 days I had four rejections: from Jameson, TV’s Ireland AM, Condé Nast and The New York Times. The Condé Nast pitch hadn’t been an official part of the “Rejection Challenge”, but the day I pitched an article to The Atlantic I also fired off a series of pitches to various outlets as I was on a roll. I saw the Condé Nast pitch as a challenge within a challenge. I’m not a travel writer, but I figured I could become one for one of the largest and most influential publishing groups in the world so I had to work out what I could feasibly pitch them. I went with a story about Belfast, a city dear to my heart. As Belfast doesn’t seem to be covered much by Condé Nast Traveller magazine ,I wasn’t terribly surprised to be rejected by them. Indeed, it gave me a little thrill to see the editor’s name pop up in my emails.

None of the rejections were painful. There’s loads of ways to look at rejection and I’m choosing to see it as a wonderful exercise in discernment. Refusals could be a “No, for now”. Or they could be a “No, thank you, we’re not into what you’re selling”. Or they could be a “We don’t have the budget for this amazing idea, but we don’t want to say that to you”. A closed door tells me one thing: it’s time to knock on another one.

Over the course of the 30 days, I came to the realisation that my skills are very broad, but they all

The biggest win has been the amount of growing and learning I’ve done, and the incredible, supportive community who’ve been along for the ride on social media

have a theme of creativity. I was also astounded by what I was able to create in one day.

I can’t fully know yet what might come work-wise from the challenge. I planted many seeds during the 30 days and I can’t know how they might sprout for me in the future. One thing I really love is getting a piece of work from someone who tells me they heard me on the radio a year ago and kept me in mind or that they attended a talk I gave and thought of me two years later for a project. I adore the tangled connections and opportunities that come whenever you put yourself out there in any way. Those experiences rarely pay off immediately, but they do pay off eventually.

That said, my challenge has had some immediate successes too. One company I pitched to contacted me with a view to doing some work for them later in the year. I also had an email from a publishing house saying they are taking my children’s book manuscript to their commissioning editors’ next monthly meeting and will be in touch afterwards.

One of my proposals was successful and I’ve now been booked to appear at an international festival. I wouldn’t have applied to take part if I weren’t doing the “Rejection Challenge”, so I’m absolutely delighted to have had such an exciting success as a result.

However, the biggest win from the “Rejection Challenge” has been the amount of growing and learning I’ve done, and the incredible, supportive community of people who’ve been along for the ride with me on social media.

I’ve become a different person from who I was before I started. I’ve got over myself, let go of limiting beliefs about what I can and can’t do and what I am and am not allowed to ask for. If a UK-born performance artist in New Zealand can be appointed the (paid) official wizard of the country by the New Zealand prime minister, then who’s to say I can’t be appointed the Minister for Joy here?

Not knowing what I was going to pitch for each day meant I actively looked for inspiration as I went about my day, which is a practice I’m going to continue.

Throughout the challenge, I had comments and private messages from people asking me for support and information to start their own challenges. That led me to my final Rejection Challenge. On Day 30, I launched The Joy Bringer membership community on Patreon for anyone who wants to undertake their own challenge. This was far from my mind as an option when I set out on day one of the “Dream Job Rejection Challenge”. However as I’ve fast become a “Rejection Challenge” expert, I’m excited to share what I’ve learned and support other people to do their own.

When I look back at the time I had just found out I was jobless, and the moment where I decided to be open to something other than panic, I can see that everything was happening for me. This chain of events has led me to start my own business — a business I didn’t even know existed as a possibility month ago and wouldn’t have thought to put on my “Dream Job” list. I’ve shown that with openness, bravery, hard work, and a sense of fun, it’s possible to turn your life around in the space of a month.

See patreon.com/thejoybringer