Ninety-Eight and Counting.

Ninety-eight.  I have been rejected from TV shows, Indie films, student documentaries, movies, and even theatrical plays 98 times.  My parents say I should quit, to open my eyes, to realize that this "childish dream" of mine is never going to work out, that it's nothing but a faded fantasy of youthful wonder.  The scouts, on the other hand, politely state how I will "be kept in mind" and that they'll call me later that week.  I'm still waiting for a single phone call.  

Rejection sucks.  Yes, I'll admit it, shout it to the rooftops of Broadway and scream it at the top of my lungs: Rejection. Effing. Sucks.  And there have been more than a few times when I have stared back at that pathetic reflection of mine, talking to myself, saying if I was prettier I would've gotten the part, if I was more charismatic, a bit taller, skinnier, older, more experienced.  And more than once have I considered listening to my parents, admitting that I should give up my hopeless dream of ever having my name in lights or my handprint plastered forever on the sidewalks of Hollywood.  And right when I'm about to let go, to uncurl my fingers that are grasping so tightly and blindly and foolishly around the invisible rope of dreams, I take one more look in the mirror, one more gleaming glance at myself, staring into my own eyes, deep into my own soul, and, more often than not, do I find that little girl who would spend hours in front of the television, memorizing lines, practicing different accents and voices, reenacting scenes in front of her parents who, at the time, enjoyed every bit of innocent entertainment their daughter provided so effortlessly.  And in that brief, fleeting moment, I think back on those days of gaudy costumes and makeshift props and improvised scripts and imaginary friends and an invisible audience.  Then I smile and feel lightheaded and dopamine floods my senses as I reminisce in the nostalgia of childhood, the days when acting was fun and simple, when rejection was merely a word.

Like one of the funniest, inventive, and inspiring actors of the silent film era once said, "Actors search for rejection; if they don't get it, they reject themselves..." 

Charlie Chaplin was my idol as a kid, and I've always found his quote brilliantly truthful in the saddest way.  

So, in times of doubt and discouragement, I'll remind myself that rejection is a friend that I should welcome, a traveler that needs an open invitation.  

Yes, rejection sucks.  Failure sucks.  But one must look for it to become successful, one must look at the world and say, "You can reject me 98 times and point and laugh, but the show must go on, and I intend to be the star."