The Time She Lost a Major Opportunity
The rejection that unexpectedly opened a better door.
The rejection that unexpectedly opened a better door.
My first career in Network Technology got me to higher levels of management and hitting the glass ceiling. I left and started a new career earning my doctorate in Industrial/Organizational Psychology and starting my consulting business that is thriving.
The opportunities we lose are sometimes God's way of making room for a greater calling. Leaving scientific research felt like the end of one dream, but it became the beginning of a mission that has impacted far more lives than I ever imagined.
I may have "done it," but I did not do it alone. The moment you realize you cannot truly fly without your own set of support advisors and network for various matters, the faster you get to the "been there experienced that". Truly the embodiment of this James Keller quote. "A candle loses nothing by lighting another candle." A thank you to those who "lit" me, and bright thoughts ahead for those I now have the honor and privilege to light and empower!
A pivotal 'no' made me realize I didn't need permission to build what I believed in. That moment of loss became the spark that led me to launch my own ventures.
One of the biggest lessons in my career came from rejection. There were opportunities I wanted and believed I had earned, but the doors didn't open. Eventually, I stopped waiting for someone else to give me an opportunity and started creating my own. That redirection led me to entrepreneurship, growing Marjorie Mabuhay Consulting and eventually turning my love of Filipino food into Marjorie's Island Barbecue. I've learned that rejection isn't always a "no." Sometimes it's a push toward something you were meant to build for yourself. Some of the best chapters of my life started with a door that didn't open.
The best thing that ever happened to my career was being told my vision was too big and not attainable. It forced me to find leaders who believed in possibility instead of limitations, and that one redirection led to opportunities and impact far greater than anything I'd originally imagined.
I don't chase opportunities or people that don't value my time, work, or vision. Knowing what not to pursue is a deliberate choice, not a loss. Somebody like me who has habit of creating own doors do not care about the chase. Nonetheless, some interest value is defined but not something dependent upon! I may not even remember I showed interest if it was not addressed on time.
In 2025, I failed the Applicant Physical Attribute Test for the Secret Service after training for months to meet a standard designed for the default: men. But if I had passed that test and joined the Secret Service, I wouldn't be waking up next to the love of my life every morning.
The opportunities I lost became the catalyst for my greatest growth, teaching me that rejection is often redirection in disguise. I learned that purpose is not defined by the doors that close, but by the courage to create new ones that align with your values, strengthen your resilience, and expand your impact.
I tried a new pitch that did not work in a solo tryout in junior high and missed singing onstage. I now at 49 have a book coming on music lessons and make up my own songs on YouTube and sing them.
Early in my career, I didn't receive a promotion that I was convinced was the right next step. At the time, I was disappointed and questioned whether I was on the right path. Looking back, that setback pushed me to explore opportunities I never would have considered otherwise, including leadership roles in startups, turnarounds, acquisitions, and global organizations. What felt like a missed opportunity became the catalyst for some of the most rewarding experiences of my career. It taught me that sometimes rejection isn't a roadblock, it's redirection.
I interviewed for two internal promotions that I ultimately didn't receive. The second was an incredible opportunity and, while I knew it would be a stretch, I chose to put myself out there anyway. Not getting the role was disappointing, but the experience gave me something I didn't expect: clarity. The interview process challenged me to think beyond my next title and really consider my immediate, short-term, and long-term goals. I started asking myself what kind of impact I wanted to make, not just what position I wanted to hold. That reflection ultimately led to the creation of M•Power, our women's employee resource group. What initially felt like a missed opportunity became the catalyst for creating something I'm incredibly proud of. It taught me that career growth isn't always a promotion-sometimes it's finding a new way to lead right where you are.
A rejection I received that changed the outcome of my determination of being secure with teaching science was when I was nominated for a state award called The Presidential Award for Excellence in Mathematics and Science Teaching, in the 23-24 school year and I was told congratulations on your nomination which can go on my resume but that I couldn't move on to the next round because I had only had 2 and a half full years of teaching in grade level content, not 5 years. I felt really crushed and almost wanted to give up teaching science but I continued to pray through the heartbreak, continued to teach to the best of my ability, giving it my all, and wound up being a finalist (3rd place) to a Saint Louis regional award called the Loeb Prize.
I chose to break the tradition of rigid specialization, the belief that a Ph.D. confines you strictly to a single academic path. True innovation happens at the intersection of different worlds, and combining quantitative sociology with digital art and generative AI proved that my doctorate was not a boundary, but a launching pad.
One of the greatest redirections in my career came when an opportunity I deeply wanted didn't work out. At the time, I saw it as rejection; later, I realized it was redirection, creating space for me to step more fully into my voice as a mental health professional, writer, speaker, and thought leader. Sometimes what doesn't happen is making room for what we were truly meant to build.