You would think that, being a well-known person, I’d have an easy time hitting people up for money.
Especially when I’m doing it in my own little country town.
You’d be wrong.
For the past few weeks I’ve been walking up and down the main street of Romsey, armed with the following pitch:
“Hello, I’m from the Romsey Lancefield United Junior Basketball Club, and we’re looking for local businesses like yours to sponsor our club.”
What comes next is almost always awkward.
Generally it’s silence. Sometimes it’s a mercy kill, shooting me down with a quick “no thanks”. Other times they respond like Kate, the girl I asked to my Year 10 formal: “Oh, that sounds … interesting. Can I get back to you?”
But I keep at it. After all, resilience is the new buzzword – especially for kids.
As screens have come to dominate our lives, we’ve not only lost the art of small talk, we’ve also outsourced our rejection to unread DMs. Perhaps that’s why ‘rejection therapy’ has gone viral on TikTok. Mostly it’s annoying extroverts filming themselves asking a barista for a 10 per cent discount on their latte #brave.
It’s cringe-worthy, but not in the way they think. Anyone who films themselves ambushing a stranger just trying to steam milk at 7am reeks of … TikTok.
Still, they’re onto something.
Rejection is a muscle. The more you use it, the stronger – and less awkward – it becomes.
And it pays off. Literally. (I’ve got my kids onto it. My 11-year-old is currently negotiating the purchase of a caravan for me. True story. The salesman told me my son knows more about the van than he does. And he’s not wrong.)
Yet don’t film yourself traumatising a barista. Channel that energy into terrorising your telco.
Call your electricity provider, bank or insurer and say: “I’m looking for a better deal – what can you do for me?” They don’t care. You don’t care. It’s low stakes. But it’ll build your confidence.
Every rejection trains you to be bolder, clearer, and more specific with what you want – skills that spill into your career, your investing, and even your kids’ basketball team.
So pick up the phone. Ask for a better deal. Get rejected.
Then go again.
Tread Your Own Path!