Not awarded

Reframing rejection and recovering agency 🫧 🦪 Secret Retreat, Vibe Lab, Linnanmäki day, Picnic, Book Club, and more!

🧃 Grab a drink and take five minutes. I have something to tell you.

Oh, hi. It’s me, Tass. This newsletter is an invitation for an unhinged conversation, the kind we could have over brunch or a glass of wine with friends who actually care. We don’t just talk, we meet in real life — scroll all the way to the bottom, I have a few invitations for you

Monday started intensely: phone calls from real estate brokers, messages that can’t wait too long, even my dog was up before eight. The cozy smell of coffee kept everything sane. When the egg boiler beeped, I put my phone away, sat at the table for breakfast, journaling and planning the week. My dog barked because she wanted another bite from my jammy eggs. I got up to pull the blinds down so the sun wouldn’t glare in my eyes, and that’s when I saw the notification that made me instantly nervous. I rushed to the computer with a million what-ifs running in circles around my brain. I had to breathe deeply four times and adultly tell myself to calm down because, regardless, I would write my book.

Decision: Not awarded.

I dropped a few tears. Just a few. I messaged my besties—they felt sorry, and so did I. I savoured the rejection a bit, to know what it tastes like. It's bitter, but it doesn’t linger. Or at least this one didn’t. After ten minutes, I shifted from sorry to excited again.

to grant: a big verb —

it means agreeing to a request instead of refusing it. It also means acknowledging that it was true. And, of course, it refers to officially giving money, rights, or access for a specific purpose.

Now I realize. I wanted all of it.

I want to grant myself the chance to write my book as a priority, and money would definitely help with that. I want to acknowledge that it’s possible, and money really helps with that. I want the money so I don’t have to spend my creativity figuring out how to monetize other things.

I felt the bitterness in my mouth again, but it vanished—my body knows the subtle difference between “not awarded” and “rejected”. Rejections hit harder. Nevertheless, if someone breaks your heart, they are blocking the access to love through them, but not refusing you love.

Hello, this is Tass calling to recover my agency.

I wasn’t awarded the grant, but I can still write my book. I wasn’t invited to an interview, but I can still share my writing on LinkedIn. I wasn’t selected for a masterclass, but I can find the exercises and gather friends to workshop together. I wasn’t invited to the party, but I can host something at my place. My reel flopped, but I can simply post again.

As a woman, my body knows resilience is ridiculously tiring, and I can’t keep excusing the default frustrations of a patriarchal structure. We were taught to swallow being passed over for promotions, earning less, not being heard. Many times it’s not fair. Other times, it simply is what it is. Regardless, I claim my agency. I do it anyway, stubborn consistency as a lifestyle.

They won’t give me money, but I’m granting myself in other ways.
For me, and for every woman who’s tired of waiting to be chosen.

I’ll be mostly talking about my book-writing journey on Instagram and Substack Notes.

❋ Secret Vibe Lab — Saturday, May 9 🫧 So many of you said you want to get closer to people with the same vibe and have more meaningful conversations—and that you’re open to co-creating something. So, we are building something together! A session where we’ll co-create an experience for real connection using tarot, journaling, and our creativity as the starting point. Let’s cook some magic!