How Rejection Set Me Free (With An Adventure Around The World)

I got rejected from law school.

The contents of the small envelope crushed me like a ton of bricks. I doubled over to cry as I slowly sat down on my bed, head in hands, hopes fading, in the midst of a bright sunny day.

I didn’t know what to do.

So I mourned the loss of what I thought was my ideal future, and drifted off to sleep that night feeling like a failure.

What happened next still baffles me.

The following morning, I was jolted awake by a calling to move to London. The darkness I’d felt the previous day had vanished as dramatically as it struck. With sun pouring through my window, illuminating hope for a new start.

As I sat up in bed, I questioned whether my intuition was giving me a “sign”, or my general lack of patience had prompted an early quarter-life crisis.

I’d always dreamt of living in London. I’d had an inexplicable affinity for the city ever since I was kid. And when I finally visited during a backpacking trip at age 20, it immediately felt like home. The energy, the intellect, the museums and architecture. The winding streets filled with big red buses, and expansive parks in the heart of the action. Most of all, it was the diversity of people from all over the world brought together in one place. I felt inspired in London. And I swore to my friends that I’d live there someday.

Fast forward four years, and there I was in need of a new direction.

In my heart of hearts, I wanted to make my dream of living in London a reality. The problem was I didn’t know how I could.

I didn’t know anyone in London. Let alone anyone who had worked overseas. So I was terrified of moving across the Atlantic without a job lined up.

But with this newfound calling, I was determined to make it work.

I hopped out of bed and settled in at my desk. I opened my teal leather bound journal, and on the left side, I wrote down every reason I should pursue my dream (to have an adventure, meet new people, become more independent, etc.). And on the right, I wrote down potential factors that could inhibit its realization (failure, potential loneliness, expensive standard of living, etc.).

*My lists from 2014 (pictured in 2021).*

Then, I compared lists, and negated every reason not to go.

But I was still unsure...

So I sat back in my chair and imagined myself as an 80 year old woman reflecting on my life. Would I be more likely to regret having tried and failed to achieve this dream, or not having tried and always wondering what could’ve been?

The choice was obvious. And it was all systems go from there.

I swallowed my fear and booked a one-way ticket to London.

*My one-way ticket to London (which included two layovers for the sake of stretching my savings).*

I was scared and anxious when I boarded the flight. But I was also very determined. I promised myself I would spend a full year trying to build a life overseas. No matter how hard things got, I would not give up.

Which was crucial because the first month of my journey was the hardest. As I struggled to meet people without a work or academic community to kickstart my social life.

I spent several weeks searching relentlessly for jobs and a place to live. And my exhaustion was exacerbated by sharing a room in a hostel with eleven people who were coming and going at all hours. All the while my savings were hemorrhaging.

I felt like I was failing.

I was lonely and exhausted when I thought about giving up.

But then, as if by magic, everything swiftly fell into place.

I was roaming around Hyde Park questioning what I was going to do if I didn’t find a job or an apartment soon, when I got a call from a recruiter. I didn’t catch who she was or where she was calling from given the swarms of tourists talking loudly around me, as children chased ducks by Round Pond. All I knew was she’d found my CV on one of the (many) job boards I’d posted on, and wanted to schedule an interview.

That was good enough for me.

I asked her to email me the details, and a few hours later she greeted me at the entrance of one of the UK’s top training companies. It turned out they were looking for project managers for custom learning and development programs. I was thrilled, and my new colleagues turned out to be some of my closest friends.

That same day, after my interview, I got a message through Spare Room (a site that connects strangers looking for flatmates). A group of three had secured an apartment but they needed a fourth to complete their flatshare.

I was nervous about living with strangers. But I didn’t have an alternative.

So I met the group to see the apartment and afterwards we grabbed a drink at a pub nearby. Within minutes, we were seated at a picnic table, talking and laughing on an uncharacteristically sunny day. We moved into the apartment a week later — and it immediately felt like home.

That fateful day was a turning point. And I was filled with gratitude for not giving up in the preceding weeks. Because everything got better and better from there.

Though the following year was still a rollercoaster filled with new challenges. One minute I was walking on cloud nine at glamorous events like The British Fashion Awards, Royal Ascot, or high-tea at Harrods. And the next, I was exasperated by the struggle to make ends meet, dealing with a flooded apartment, and adapting to people constantly coming and going in a bustling city. Day after day I had to push myself out of my comfort zone to meet new people and try new things.

But I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

My efforts led to opportunities of a lifetime. I met people from all over the world. I visited historical landmarks like Stonehenge and Pompei. Most importantly, I learned how to rely on myself, and to ask others for guidance along the way.

In the end, I stayed in London for a second year. And my experience gave me the confidence to pursue subsequent dreams of moving to Sydney, and then Paris. Both of which were incredible adventures.

But in 2020, I felt another inexplicable calling. This time to return to Montreal. And as I rebuild my life here, after the better part of a decade abroad, I’m reminded of Terry Pratchett’s words:

“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.”

As I look around my apartment decorated with memories from around the world, I can’t help but smile.

Getting rejected from law school turned out to be one of the best things that ever happened to me. And my courage to move to London ignited a chain of experiences that made me who I am today.