Recently, I went through the first couple of days of Millikin's Greek life recruitment. It was a fun two days to say the least, and it really opened my eyes to what could be. I was learning more things about Greek life than I ever had before. But alas, on Wednesday, I was told I wasn't invited back to the any of the sororities for the rest of the week. It was nothing personal; there were just too many girls that signed up for the process this year, and they had to make some cuts.

Now rejection is nothing new to me. I experienced it quite a few times in high school. Freshman year I tried out for the fall musical "Fiddler on the Roof" and later tried out for the school's A Capella group. I didn't make either of them that year. Even now, I felt the same way I did back then.

When I'm rejected, I don't feel sad about it, at least not immediately. Yet at the same time, I understand why people might get upset. To put your time, energy, and heart into what you have to offer only to be told 'no' is a painful feeling in-it-of-itself.

But I don't see myself as the person who breaks down and bawls her eyes out if she doesn't get the lead role or the job she wanted. That kind of reaction seems too exhausting for me. I feel as though I don't want to give up easily. Besides, there are other things that I could be doing instead of wallowing in self-pity.

If I'm rejected, the first question I ask myself is, "What's next?" When I ask that question to myself, I don't feel like crying per se, but I immediately want to see what my other options are. It saves me from the pain that I could feel building up---I may claim I don't get immediately upset, but I'm human, aren't I?

People often told me that it was okay to be sad about rejection, that it's okay to be angry about it, or that it's okay to feel confused. Maybe they do have a point, but sometimes I feel as though I have too much to worry about to get super emotional about not making it. I like keeping myself busy. And even if I do feel sad about it, I try to spend some time to myself.

If anything, I'd cry about the amount of support I get when it happens. It's just so nice to know so many people who care for my well-being and would want to know how I was feeling. I'm just at a loss for words when they ask if I'm okay. Seeing them is enough for me to perk up.

Just this week, I was trying to hold back tears in my Spanish class because I saw one of my closest friends right before class started. I had just got the news that I wasn't invited back to any of the houses, and she happened to be getting out of class. I didn't tell her the bad news right out, and I didn't have the heart to tell her just yet. But I was too glad to see her all the same. I spent the whole class wishing she was there with me, but even then, I knew I would see her sometime later in the day.

It served as a reminder that there are two things I learned to keep in mind when dealing with rejection:

There's always more than one way to get involved. I may haven't gotten a part in the musical, but then I discovered the school's One Acts festival (which I was lucky to be a part of for all four years of high school). And even ignoring that, my Rho Gamma---who has been uber supportive and helpful throughout the recruitment week by the way---suggested at least a couple more options on how I could get involved on campus.

Most importantly, there's always tomorrow. I did make the fall musical as well as the A Capella group in my sophomore year of high school. And by the next time I decide to go through Greek life recruitment week---if I ever do---, who knows? Maybe I'll get a spot the next time around. But I'll just have to wait and see.