My first ever application to present at the PMA was rejected today.

 The initial moment that you receive that information is the most brutal blow.  You were not good enough to be accepted to do something that you wanted.

 Ouch. 

If, like me, you have fashioned the internal mental fortitude to selftalk out of the 60 foot tall wave of depression rolling towards you  threatening to ruin your day, the affirmations come whizzing through your brain: at least you tried, you knew you weren’t submitting your best, but at least you tried, there are a million other pieces to this puzzle, maybe they don’t think what you do is important, maybe they couldn’t get over your weight, maybe your little Melanie Griffith voice doesn’t instill trust, maybe people on the committee didn’t like the person who recommended you, maybe they just don’t know who you are, maybe you need to up your social media game….and it stops the wave of doom but now you’re a little nauseous from all the tiny little thoughts that are just  like those swarms of gnats in the summer…the ones that get you when you  walk into them accidentally…they flip up your noise and in your mouth…bleck.

I sometimes wonder if I would be better off if I had never grown the “f” up and just let that big feel roll over me.

And then you stop. (and write about it) and you thank your lucky stars that you can just go to the PMA this year and enjoy the ride. And you have one less thing to worry about because you have so much else to do. And that there is always work to be done as a human who wants to help other humans and make the world a better place. I look at my friends and colleagues in this industry and see them presenting things all the time, and I always want to be a part of that.  I really look at that as a career milestone that I’m ready to take on, but when it comes down to putting together the application and materials, I’m always rushed. It never feels thoughtful, and honestly, I’m not that surprised that it was not selected. I really sent my application off on a wing and a prayer.

But I wanted to do it so badly…

My inner enemy tries to call me out on time management, and she’s pretty right, but ultimately, what lifts me up from the selfpity pool is knowing that my time management issues exist because I’m in the trenches with 20+ amazing instructors who are fighting the good fight every day, and even though I would love to share what I have learned with the world, it IS truly the work happening here that is going to change it, regardless of whether I present at the PMA in 2018.

There’s always next year, anyway.