It’s Not Over Until You Say It Is
I thought the door was closed for good. Then something unexpected cracked it open again.
“We’re sorry to inform you that your application has not been successful.”
That was the letter I received from London Business School MBA program.
I was crushed. Nine months of effort — strong test scores, great references, my best essays — weren’t enough. It was the biggest setback I’d ever had. I’d faced rejection before, but never after going all in.
Was my dad right? Was I not cut out for this? Should I stay home and get married, like he kept urging? Maybe I should aim lower—apply to other Master’s or PhD programs? I felt defeated.
I spiralled down for a month, imposter syndrome playing in my head. I was still subscribed to the MBA newsletter, and when I saw they were visiting my city (a rare event), I almost didn’t register. Was I holding on too tightly to a lost cause? In the end, I went. I wanted to talk to someone and ask for feedback.
After the session, I stayed behind and approached the admissions officer. She told me they didn’t give feedback to applicants. I stayed politely persistent, explaining my background. She likely hadn’t read my file — there were probably hundreds like mine. But then, with a glint in her eye, she said, “Perhaps a few more years of work experience would help your case.”
Aha. My degree took 5.5 years—normal for engineering in my country—but I had also worked during the last 3.5. Maybe they discounted that experience because I was still in school.
Now I had a clue. I would reapply—this time better, stronger, and with a clearer story.
I tackled every checkbox they valued.
They wanted international experience—so I got a new job that required English and international travel. It also proved I could compete in a global job market.
I gathered the courage to ask the CEO of the scale-up I’d worked at during university for a reference. His words would show I made a real impact.
I levelled up my essay-writing skills. (Thank you, William Zinsser.)
I reapplied the following year and waited.
They called me for an interview. My interviewer was a school alum and the CMO of the country’s biggest phone maker. The title was intimidating, but the man was warm and humble. We had a great conversation.
On December 6, 2006, a thick envelope arrived—British stamps on the corner.
I opened it with trembling hands.
I was in.
London Business School changed my life—but it almost didn’t happen.
Persistence, luck, and a quiet hint from the admission officer carried me through.
As Randy Pausch said in The Last Lecture:
“The brick walls are there for a reason. They’re not there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something.”
If you haven’t seen it, go watch it. It’s an hour well spent.
There’s always hope. Always a second chance.
Too many people give up too soon.
I recently gave feedback to an internal Amazon candidate. We interview even for lateral moves, and unlike with external candidates, we can share feedback. As I shared my thoughts, he nodded. “Yeah, I had a feeling that’s where I fell short. I need a stronger example.”
I once gave a poor example in an interview too. Later that day, I thought of a better one and sent it as a follow-up. I don’t know if it helped—but I got the role.
What brick wall are you hitting? Do you want it badly enough?
Then do another rep.
It’s not over until you say it is.
And with enough reps, you will break through.
Thank you for reading! If this post resonated, share it with someone who needs to hear it today.
Thank you for sharing this piece of resilience and strong will.
This is one of the reasons why we always give candidates we reject a comprehensive and honest feedback, and invite them to try again 6 months later, provided they really want to work for us: being rejected is hard enough, you shouldn't be looking for the reasons why it happened and company's expectations all over the place.