What Rejection Taught Me About Grant Writing (And Why You Shouldn’t Take It Personally)

Rejection is never easy. Whether you were stood up for a date, told “no” to a new toy as a kid, failed a test you studied your heart out for, or received a disappointing email that your grant application wasn’t selected—it always stings.

Art mimics life

I’ve been writing grants for over 15 years now. Before that, I was a trained visual and performing artist. And if you’ve ever been an artist—or known one—you know that rejection is part of the profession. Everyone has something to say, and they often don’t hold back. Critics, directors, even random people in the audience will comment on your voice, your appearance, your movement, your accent, and everything in between. It’s not easy, but over time, you learn to take what’s useful and let the rest roll off your back.

Believe it or not, that same skill set is exactly what’s helped me survive (and thrive) as a grant writer.

Don’t take it personally

Because the truth is, grant rejection doesn’t always reflect your work—or your worth. I’ve received everything from kind, vague “thank you for applying” notes to brutally detailed feedback that felt like a personal attack. With time and perspective, I learned how to read between the lines. I began to understand that rejection wasn’t always about bad writing. Sometimes the organization’s goals weren’t clearly defined. Sometimes the funder’s guidelines were so vague that interpreting them felt like reading tea leaves. And sometimes, the decision had nothing to do with us at all.

In the world of grants, rejection can mean a hundred different things. Maybe the funder’s budget was tighter than expected. Maybe they had a last-minute change in priorities or an internal miscalculation. Maybe they decided to accept only the first 30 applications but didn’t mention that anywhere in the funding guidelines. Maybe your proposal was excellent, but there were simply too many outstanding applications to choose from. Or maybe—and this one makes me smile—they just hadn’t had their second cup of coffee yet. Funders, after all, are people too.

Keep going

That’s something I remind every client I work with: behind every grant award decision is a human being and humans are unpredictable. Even in this age of AI-generated proposals and automated reviews, there’s almost always a person who reads what you wrote, makes a judgment call, and pushes your application into the “yes” or “no” pile.

This is why reaching out to funders matters. A rejection doesn’t have to be the end of the conversation. In fact, it can be the beginning of a stronger relationship. Follow up with a thank-you, ask for feedback if it’s available, and express interest in applying again in the future. One of the best pieces of advice I ever heard came from a representative at the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD). He said that organizations who attend webinars, ask questions, and consistently show up over time are the ones that often get funded—not necessarily the ones with the flashiest proposals.

Visibility builds trust. Familiarity makes a difference. If they’ve seen your name and your passion multiple times, you’re no longer just another applicant—you’re a known presence.

Don’t Give Up

Here’s another hard truth I’ve seen play out over and over again: many nonprofits and consulting agencies, especially in tight economic times, lay off their fundraising and grant writing staff to cut costs. But these team members are often the glue that holds your funding strategy together. When done right, grant writers are not just writers—they’re connectors. They help you build lasting relationships with funders, strategize for the long-term, and keep your mission moving forward.

Think about it like dating. Most people don’t get married after the first date. You get to know each other. You build trust. You learn what the other person values. And even if the first attempt didn’t lead to a “yes,” that doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth it. That rejection could be laying the groundwork for a future opportunity.

To Summarize

As someone who’s faced more than my share of critics—from art reviews to foundation panels—I’ll leave you with this: rejection is never fun, but it can be formative. It can clarify your message, sharpen your goals, and strengthen your resilience. So don’t give up after the first “no.” Keep learning. Keep connecting. Keep writing and refining and showing up. The organizations that succeed are the ones who hold it all together, even when the feedback isn’t easy to hear.

You may not have gotten the grant this time, but you’re still in the game—and you’re growing.

If you ever need help navigating that “no,” sorting through the feedback, or writing something stronger next time, I’m here. This is what I do. This is what I love.

Let’s build something together. Book a free 30-minute strategy session here