Have you ever felt that sharp jab after an interview? You know – you wait for the call, it finally comes, and they tell you it wasn’t the right fit, or they went with someone else. Before you decide what that says about you, give me a few minutes.
I have been there. More than once, for sure. Over the years, I started reading into psychology, including CBT (cognitive behavioural therapy) and a bit of neurolinguistic programming, and slowly the way I looked at failure shifted. Interview rejection included.
Rejection does not mean you are not good enough
Most of the pain after an interview traces back to one belief we rarely say out loud: that a knock-back means we are not good enough.
Here is the trap. Your mind takes one event, a no from this centre, this university, this school, and turns it into a verdict about all of you. The actual fact is usually plain. “We went with another candidate.” That is rarely what you hear, though. You hear that it is personal, that you failed, that you didn’t show well, that you are a loser.
In psychology, these mental shortcuts are called cognitive distortions, and a few of them tend to turn up the moment a rejection lands.
There is overgeneralisation, where one “no” becomes “I always fail interviews.” When you catch yourself there, stop and ask whether that is actually true. Then list the times you didn’t fail, when you did land the job, the role, the mark, whatever you were after. This one got me badly when I missed out on a training job at TAFE. I told myself it would never happen because I wasn’t born here, and that thought walked me straight into the victim seat.
Then there is labelling, where a single outcome hardens into an identity. One ordinary interview on one ordinary day becomes “I am a failure.”
Personalisation is another. You read the decision of the director, the preschool committee as a judgment of your worth, when most of the time it comes down to budget, timing and fit. And sometimes, honestly, there is already an internal candidate. The role still gets advertised and a few people still get interviewed so it all looks fair, but the choice was made before you walked in.
Last one, emotional reasoning. “I feel like a failure, therefore I am one.” Sound familiar?
This is where you separate the event from the story you wrap around it. One of my favourite Buddhist teachers, Pema Chödrön, talks about feeling what you feel and then dropping the storyline. Let yourself sit with what actually happened, the event itself, without building a whole narrative about what it says about you.
“Feel the feelings and drop the story.”
Why rejection hurts almost physically
It still hurts to be rejected. I know that very well. And there is a good reason it can feel almost physical.
Eisenberger and Lieberman used brain imaging to study social exclusion. They found that some of the same regions tied to physical pain switch on when we are left out. That pain is a real signal, wired into us from a time when we lived in tribes and being pushed out of the group could mean death. To your social brain, a rejection still reads as a threat.
Once you have named the hurt, the question is what to do with it. Across my own interview journey I keep coming back to three ideas.
Three things that helped me
The first is self-compassion, from the work of Kristin Neff. Her research shows that treating yourself with kindness helps you recover far more quickly than turning on yourself. So instead of propping up your ego (“I’m better than that job anyway, they clearly had no idea”), try this. Picture a friend who walked out of that exact interview with that exact rejection. Would you call them names? Of course not. You would give them a hug, shout them a coffee, remind them what they are good at, and tell them to keep going. Say those things to yourself.
The second is planned happenstance, from John Krumboltz, whose career counselling work I am studying right now. His idea is that careers are shaped mostly by events we never planned for. What helps is staying open, curious, persistent and flexible while you chase the work you want. That mindset lets a rejection become a redirection. When I missed the trainer job the first time, I started wondering whether I could move into assessing instead, working with learners on placement rather than running a classroom. That turned out to be easier to get into.
The third comes from Mark Savickas and his career narrative approach. A setback can become a chapter you give meaning to, instead of the final word. You are the author here. This rejection makes one small event in a long story, and it does not decide your ending.
A final word
So I wish you all the best with your next interview. Be kind to yourself and keep an open mind. You are still the one writing this story.
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STORYKATE helps educators create a top-notch curriculum. As an early childhood teacher and teacher's educator, I share my passion for early learning through stories; puppet shows, action songs, circle games, children's songs, and thoughts about helping young children to learn. Through videos, tutorials and quizzes, I will demonstrate the ways to create an engaging program for children, with a particular emphasis on circle time (group time, meeting time or yarning circle). If you are a beginning educator, an early childhood education student or a seasoned professional, I promise you will find something to learn here. I envision STORYKATE as a space to share ideas, examples of good practice; reflections and fun!
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