Written by: Maryjane Griffin
@maryjanegriffinphotography | maryjanegriffinphotography.com
Photography has so many highs.
Perfectly exposed film scans.
Selling out a season.
Getting published.
Community.
Witnessing love.
Witnessing birth!
It only makes sense that in a space where highs get this high, the lows will follow suit. The peaks and valleys of putting yourself out there are miles apart. When pouring into work that moves you, work you cherish, it's hard to separate the art from the artist, and when faced with rejection, it's hard to be objective. It reaches into identity, into worth, it's not so simple to respond with a hopeful “we’ll get it next time!”
After a handful of rejections this winter, I felt so discouraged. Rejection is part of the risk, of course, when putting your art into the world. It's healthy, it's refining, it's subjective. It makes sense rationally, but then you don’t get the grant, you aren’t chosen for the publication, you aren’t invited to the retreat. Just enough small stings at the same time and I started to wonder…
Am I moving in the right direction?
Am I good enough?
Wouldn’t this be easier if I was truly in alignment with my purpose, my path?
Eventually, I had to admit it was really starting to get to me. There were tears, long conversations with a very patient husband, self-doubt, anger, more tears, and in the end the shake up set free some fresh perspectives.
Somewhere along the way, photography had shifted to something external. It started as an outlet, a totally free and happy experiment. But slowly, it became tied to response.
Look at my work. Does it matter?
Do you like it? Do you like me?
My work felt performative, the joy of creating buried under a desire for approval and acceptance and legitimacy. These rejections became such an effective tool that stopped me in my tracks and forced me to reflect and wrestle with my intentions. It was healing to recognize that the joy I get from creating has to stay anchored in a genuine place for it to feel good.
I was feeling so much pressure to validate something that already has inherent value. It’s beautiful and precious for the ways it supports my creativity, the way it acts as a release valve for the long days and nights of being a mom. It warms my chest to catch a beautiful scene and know I’m preserving it. A souvenir of this moment wouldn’t exist without me. I can remember it, you can remember it now.
At the end of the day, to be rejected means you did it, you put yourself out there! The pride and enthusiasm you have for your art compelled you to show it to the world. As painful as it can be, you have to share yourself to be seen. The only safeguards are bolstering your purpose, your intention, your worth so that you can ride the waves of how you are received for better or for worse.
Since I’ve started reframing rejection, I’ve had plenty more no’s (some exciting yes’s too!). I think the difference now is having a more confident footing, more regulation, and I can see them for what they are: redirection, clarification, and the blessing of a closed door making room for something more aligned.
“How can you be ahead or behind in life when you are moving on a path that only you can take?” — Twillostory
Maryjane Griffin is a New England-based photographer using film and digital to capture everyday moments and relationships with an emotive, documentary approach.
