Growing up I was a fairly normal Canadian kid. My day consisted of: be going to school, playing hockey and then going home to play video games. I was a talented hockey player. I had friends and I was even able to flirt with girls a little bit. I was happy. In fact, I was so happy that my nickname growing up was smiley, as you can see.
But then that all changed and it changed when I began to experience rejection in my life. The first time I was rejected by a girl, I was 11 years old, in the sixth grade. It was by a girl named Amanda who I had the crush on. My family lived in a home by a lake in Calgary, Canada. So naturally being in Canada, the lake would freeze over during the winter, or as we like to call it, nine months of the year.
With Valentine’s Day coming up, I decided I was going to ask Amanda to be my valentine. So I conjured up a plan with her friends to leave her at the other end of the lake so I could skate over like the knight and shining hockey gear I was and asked for that all-important question, when you’re 11 years old. Nervous yet excited I skated over and when I got there, I told her I had a question to ask, and even though I could have waited four more days so she had to say yes. I — I wanted to know the real answer: Will you be my Valentine?
She looked over at me and with confidence said, ‘No, sorry.’ And she skated off. Instant pain shot through my chest as my heart broke for the first time. And I remember — standing there in shock for a few minutes, I remember thinking that this — this would be a night I would never forget. I had been rejected.
Two years later, I was in the eighth grade. There was a new hockey program starting up where all the top hockey players in my city would go to school together. During the day we’d go to class with all the other school kids and after class we’d have extra ice time with top-level coaches and trainers. That sounds amazing, right? It wasn’t.
Because I played hockey with a lot of kids, the year started off well. Hockey is such an important sport in Canada that allowed me to become a member of the popular kids. Unfortunately, this didn’t work out how I thought it would. Although I was a member of the popular kids, as the year went on I began to notice that I was the one who is the outcast. I was the one not invited to parties, the one who began to be picked on. It was weird, because all my hockey teams, all of these kids were friends with me, but at school it was as if I didn’t even matter. And it only got worse.
Eventually the bullying got so bad that the fun game to play was put in a garbage can. Every day at lunch time, a group of ninth graders would gang up and chase me around the school, trying to put me in a garbage can. I would kick and scream and squirm and do everything in my power, because every ounce of self worth that I had left depended on me not being put in that garbage can. I was in the eighth grade and still I was rejected.
Two years later, I was 15 and I just made a hockey team I’d always dreamed of. Shortly after making the team we had a game in Red Deer, Alberta, two hours from my hometown. After the game we got on the team bus to head back home. And tired from the game I was laying down in the backseat, listening to music when one of the assistant coaches’ sons who had accompanied us on the trip came and started poking fun at me.
Tired from the game and exhausted from years of dealing with this type of stuff. I decided to just ignore him. As he noticed he wasn’t getting a reaction from me, he escalated further. Just keep ignoring, just keep ignoring him. So he escalated further to the point where he began to spit on me. He started to spit on me. I didn’t know what to do. Part of me wants to go beast mode on this kid. But instead — instead I froze and for the next hour I laid crouched in fetal position, holding on to a picture of a girl I had a crush on named Lindsay, because I knew the only thing that was going to get me through that experience was the strength her picture to give me.
I made the hockey team and still I was rejected. I was rejected by a girl, by a classroom and by my hockey team. But to me it was bigger than that, because I felt rejected by people in general, I felt unaccepted, unwelcome and I felt unsafe. I felt like I didn’t matter. All I wanted was to be accepted but here I was not. Most importantly I felt confused: why was I the one being rejected? Why was I the one being bullied? Why me?
Here I was, a talented hockey player, an important member of the team — why me? Here I was, a smart kid, a loyal friend, why me? Here I was, a nice kid who would treat any girl like a princess, why me? And for years that’s the question I struggled to answer: why me?
Having these experiences and so many others caused me to isolate myself away. I decided to just try and ignore it, to escape, so I will play video games up to 16 hours a day.
I dropped out of high school twice and I retired from hockey, the game I loved more than anything else. I just want to be accepted.
I knew I had so much more potential inside but I felt paralyzed and I felt apathetic. Nobody else seemed to care about me, so why would I care about me? I was 18 with no real sense of direction.
So after two years of struggling to figure out why me, I decided I had to make a change. I had to change the way this was going. I just couldn’t do it anymore. And in a moment of inspiration, I decided to ask myself a different question: if I could change this circumstance, if I could change my situation, would I? If I could learn how to make new friends, would I? If this was actually possible, if I could actually do it, would I do it? And with every ounce of my being I knew that yes, I would.
So I made a commitment to myself: I was going to change the situation. I was going to learn to make new friends. I was going to learn to be happy again, to smile again. So I set off on a journey. I didn’t really know what I was doing, so I approached it like a big experiment. I was experimenting until I learned what I needed to learn. To make friends, I needed to meet more people, so I started going out which led me to go out every single night for three years. It wasn’t a party, though, so I did it sober and I kept a journal of lessons I was learning.
I made significant progress and I felt more comfortable talking to people. But there’s still one problem. Even after going out for three years, I was still lonely. And that’s when I learned that loneliness doesn’t come from knowing a lot of people, it comes from a lack of intimate connections. Even though I knew more people, I didn’t really know anyone. Sure I can give them a high five at the night club but that was the extent of our relationship. I needed to take these connections deeper.
So I spent the next two years learning that, and it happened by being curious and asking better questions. It happened by being vulnerable and asking for help, because that created an opportunity for us to bond together. And it happened by getting to know other people’s stories and being willing to let them get to know mine.
To be happy, I started doing things I was proud of. I always wanted to learn how to DJ so I did. A few friends and I bought equipment and it became a passion. I always knew I wanted to learn how to DJ but I’d simply never taken a leap to try. Taking a leap made me feel proud and I was happier because of it. At my job I hated asking for permission to take the weekend off. I wanted to be spontaneous and set my own schedule. So I quit and I launched my own business. I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t have a college degree. I didn’t have any mentors. So I focused on learning what I needed to learn.
It wasn’t easy though, and I failed a lot. In the fall of 2012, I took a trip to Boulder, Colorado to meet other entrepreneurs who were pursuing their dreams. As soon as I got there I knew this was exactly where I wanted to be. But if I was to move to Colorado, that would mean that my girlfriend and I would have to do long distance. So I got scared and I went back home for a few months to figure out what I really wanted to do. But truthfully I was just terrified.
The day after I got home, there was a blizzard. It was cold and I was miserable. So I got on the plane and flew to Costa Rica. What else was I supposed to do? I’ll never forget it. I was sitting at this cafe in San Jose having a morning coffee and I was reading a book. And the first line of the chapter said, ‘Oh! So you felt by traveling you could run away from your problems?’ But what else was I supposed to do. ‘Oh, so you thought by traveling you could run away from your problems but you realize that your problems are within you, so they come with you wherever you go’. That’s exactly what I was doing. I was in Costa Rica running away from my problems. The trip was supposed to last for 40 days and it lasted 12, and those 12 days were full of stress and anxiety. I spent the last week of it in a hotel room in Dominical waiting to go home. I was terrified.
So I flew back to Canada and felt like a failure. Five days later, my girlfriend broke up with me. It’s funny how these things work sometimes. Here I was, my business is failing, my trip to Costa Rica a disaster, and now my girlfriend leaves. I felt like a total loser, and like I was back to square one.
So I spent the next four months developing courage and finally moved to Boulder, Colorado in April of last year. It was one of the best decisions I ever made. Yes, the environment was fantastic. Yes, the friends I made were great. But truthfully it was the decision to take the leap and have the courage to do it that made the difference. To honor something inside I knew I wanted to do but had never done.
Your passions may not be deejaying or traveling or working for yourself, whatever they are, pursue them. It’ll make you feel proud and it will make you feel happier. My friend [Alexi Panel] says, ‘Don’t follow your bliss, be your own bliss’.
Finally, I learned that rejection is a compass. It teaches you what you don’t want, so you can learn what you do. My friend [Present Smile] says, ‘Out of our biggest rejection comes our biggest sense of direction’.
Six months after moving to Colorado, I booked a plane ticket to Europe. I had always wanted to go to Europe but I simply never booked a ticket. So I did and i traveled for two months and it was incredible. But truthfully I just felt proud with the fact that I pursued something I wanted to do. I went after a goal.
When we get rejected it’s so easy to view it as validation, it’s so easy to try and identify with it. Don’t identify with it. Rejection is not you, it is not you and it doesn’t define you. You define you. Viktor Frankl says, ‘The last human freedom is our ability to give meaning to our circumstances’ and I believe that to be true. I was rejected, I was bullied and I felt depressed but it was only up to me to change my circumstances. Nobody could do it for me.
So why me? Why are these my stories? Honestly I may never know and you may never know your answer either. Sometimes that’s just the way it is. The answer simply don’t exist. The truth is there wasn’t a reason why me. It just was me. It’s part of my story and that’s OK. It sucked and that’s OK. Rejection is OK but what I want you to know is that I’m grateful for it. I’m grateful for it because it gave me a choice, it gave me a chance to start again. What I want you to know is that you are not alone, you are not alone. You and me and so many others experience this exact same thing every single day and that’s OK. Rejection is OK. Reach out and ask for help. Be brave, you don’t have to do this alone.
Finally, my challenge to you is this: What’s your turning point going to be? Mine was when I realized that if I could change my circumstances I would, and when that light bulb went off, I knew I had to take responsibility for my life. So what’s your turning point going to be? Because ultimately you get to make that choice, you get to make that choice for yourself. So choose, choose yourself.
