Working for months on end to achieve a goal but falling short is painful. It stings. The deep sense of frustration can be felt for days; the moment you received the news plays in the back of your mind like a broken record player. You think about how things could have been different; “if only I had just…,” seems to be the way you start most of your inner monologues.  We’ve all been there, we’ve felt the pain, and we’ve also felt the sense of liberation in the days after, when each progressively becomes easier ultimately leading to some semblance of peace.

But working for months on end to achieve a goal and meeting—no, exceeding—the qualifications and still not achieving the goal, well… that’s different. The sting is stronger, the frustration unshakable. As the days go by, it doesn’t necessarily become easier. You believe you were wronged, disrespected, neither of which can be fixed with a phone call or being told the common cliche that “there’s always next year.”

Well, I’m at that point now. The final two mock trial teams were chosen for the rest of the year, and my name was left off the list. I feel like the Isiah Thomas meme from The Last Dance. I did everything I could to make one of those teams and had results that I believed were more than sufficient for me to do so. But the people who made the teams thought otherwise. This blog isn’t for me to disagree with their decision; they’re hardworking, smart people who made what they think is the best decision for the organization. 

But I’ve had to wonder if I will ever get over the feeling of being snubbed. It’s one thing to fall short of achieving a goal because of your performance or because a team member had a bad day. But failing to achieve a goal because of circumstances entirely outside your control is a different story. Especially when you’ve been working so long for it. It’s been half a week and I’m still not “over it” despite my best efforts to tell myself that “it’s just mock trial” (it is, after all, just fake trials that have no bearing on anything or anyone outside the mock trial community—but the activity and the people still mean the world to me) and that I “still have two more full years of competition left.” I’ve even tried telling myself to use the feeling as fuel for next year, but the next season seems like an eternity away. 

Maybe a broader question applies: should I get over it? Is there a point of just letting it go and pretending it never happened? Is there a point of doing this all over again next year just to potentially be let down again? The answer is that I don’t know. In fact, generally, it’s inevitable in life to put yourself out there and have your fate be left in the hands of people who may ultimately let you down. 

It definitely takes strength to give people that power over you. But it’s better than the alternative of staying in your comfort zone and fearing failure or rejection. As much as rejection and failure are difficult to deal with, I think going through life avoiding the two is harder and ultimately less rewarding. I’m glad I’ve continuously put myself out there but the repercussions are hard to deal with. I think I’ll get over it and do it again next year but it’s easier said than done to get up and keep running if you don’t know how it’s going to turn out, or worse—that it’ll turn out the same way.