Translator: Leonardo Silva
Reviewer: Mile Živković Growing up, I was
a fairly normal Canadian kid. (Laughter) My day consisted of me
going to school, playing hockey, and then going home to play video games. I was a talented hockey player, I had friends, and I was even able
to flirt with girls a little bit. (Laughter) I was happy. In fact, I was so happy that my nickname growing up was "Smiley," as you can see. But then, that all changed, and it changed when I began
to experience rejection in my life. The first time I was rejected
by a girl, I was 11 years old - (Laughter) in the 6th grade. It was by a girl named Amanda,
who I had a crush on. My family lived in a home by a lake,
in Calgary, Canada. So, naturally, being in Canada, the lake would freeze over
during the winter, or, as we like to call it,
nine months of the year. With Valentine's Day coming up, I decided I was going to ask Amanda
to be my Valentine. So, I conjured up a plan with her friends
to leave her at the other end of the lake, so I could skate over like the knight
in shining hockey gear I was, and ask her that all-important question
when you're 11 years old. Nervous, yet excited, I skated over and, when I got there,
I told her I had a question to ask and, even though I could
have waited four more days, so she had to say yes, I wanted to know the real answer, "Will you be my Valentine?" She looked over at me,
and with confidence said, "No. Sorry." And she skated off. (Laughter) Instant pain shot to my chest
as my heart broke for the first time. And I remember standing there
in shock for a few minutes, and I remember thinking that this - this would be a night
I would never forget. I had been rejected. Two years later, I was in the 8th grade. There was a new hockey
program starting up where all the top hockey players
in my city would go to a school together. During the day, we'd go to class
with all the other school kids and, after the class, we'd have extra ice time
with top-level coaches and trainers. That sounds amazing, right? It wasn't. Because I played hockey
with a lot of kids, the year started off well. Hockey is such
an important sport in Canada, and that allowed me to become
a member of the "popular kids." Unfortunately, this didn't work out
how I thought it would. Although I was a member
of the popular kids, as the year went on, I began to notice
that I was the one who was the outcast. I was the one not invited to parties, the one who began to be picked on. It was weird because on my hockey teams,
all of these kids were friends with me, but, at school, it was as if
I didn't even matter. And it only got worse. Eventually, the bullying got so bad that the fun game to play was,
"Can we put Cam in a garbage can?" Every day at lunch time, a group of 9th graders would gang up
and chase me around the school, trying to put me in a garbage can. I would kick, and scream, and squirm,
and do everything in my power because every ounce
of self-worth that I had left depended on me not being put
in that garbage can. I was in the 8th grade,
and still, I was rejected. Two years later, I was 15, and I had just made the hockey
I had always dreamed of. Shortly after making the team,
we had a game in Red Deer, Alberta, two hours from my hometown. After the game, we got on
the team bus to head back home. And, tired from the game, I was lying down in the back seat,
listening to music, when one of the assistant coach's sons,
who had accompanied us on the trip, came and started poking fun of me. Tired from the game and exhausted from years
of dealing with this type of stuff, I decided to just ignore him. As he noticed that he wasn't getting
a reaction from me, he escalated it further. "Just keep ignoring him,
just keep ignoring him." So, he escalated it further to the point
where he began to spit on me. He started to spit on me. I didn't know what to do. Part of me wanted
to go beast-mode on this kid, but instead - instead, I froze, and for the next hour,
I laid crouched in fetal position, holding on to a picture of a girl
I had a crush on, named Lindsay, because I knew the only thing that was
going to get me through that experience was the strength
her picture could give me. I made the hockey team
and, still, I was rejected. I was rejected by a girl, by a classroom,
and by my hockey team, but to me, it was bigger than that because I felt rejected
by people in general. I felt unaccepted, unwelcome,
and I felt unsafe. I felt like I didn't matter. All I wanted was to be accepted,
but here I was - not. Most importantly, I felt confused. Why was I the one being rejected? Why was I the one being bullied? Why me? Here I was, a talented hockey player,
an important member of the team - why me? Here I was, a smart kid, a loyal friend - why me? Here I was, a nice kid who would treat
any girl like a princess - why me? And, for years, that's the question
I struggled to answer, "Why me?" Having these experiences
and so many others caused me to isolate myself away. I decided to just try
and ignore it, to escape. So, I would play video games
up to 16 hours a day. I dropped out of high school twice, and I retired from hockey,
the game I loved more than anything else. I just wanted to be accepted. I knew I had so much more
potential inside, but I felt paralyzed,
and I felt apathetic. Nobody else seemed to care about me,
so why would I care about me? I was 18, with no real sense of direction. So, after two years of struggling
to figure out why me, I decided I had to make a change. I had to change the way this was going.
I just couldn't do it anymore. And, in a moment of inspiration, I decided to ask myself
a different question, "If I could change this circumstance,
if I could change my situation, would I? If I could learn how to make
new friends, would I? If this was actually possible,
if I could actually do it, would I do it?" And, with every ounce of my being,
I knew that, yes, I would. So, I made a commitment to myself: I was going to change this situation, I was going to learn to make new friends, I was going to learn to be happy again, to smile again. So, I set off on a journey. I didn't really know what I was doing,
so I approached it like a big experiment. I would experiment until I learned
what I needed to learn. To make friends,
I needed to meet more people. So, I started going out, which led me to go out
every single night for three years. It wasn't to party, though. So, I did it sober and I kept a journal
of lessons I was learning. I made significant progress and I felt more comfortable
talking to people, but there was still one problem. Even after going out for three years,
I was still lonely, and that's when I learned that loneliness
doesn't come from knowing a lot of people; it comes from a lack
of intimate connections. Even though I knew more people,
I didn't really know anyone. Sure, I could give them
a high five at a night club, but that was the extent
of our relationship. I needed to take these connections deeper. So, I spent the next
two years learning that, and that happened by being curious
and asking better questions. It happened by being vulnerable
and asking for help, because that created an opportunity
for us to bond together. And it happened by getting to know
other people's stories and being willing to let them
get to know mine. To be happy, I started
doing things I was proud of. I always wanted to learn
how to DJ, so I did. A few friends and I bought equipment,
and it became a passion. I always knew I wanted to learn how to DJ,
but I'd simply never taken a leap to try. Taking a leap made feel proud,
and I was happier because of it. At my job, I hated asking for permission
to take the weekend off. I wanted to be spontaneous
and set my own schedule. So, I quit and I launched my own business. I didn't know what I was doing,
I didn't have a college degree, I didn't have any mentors, so I focused on learning
what I needed to learn. It wasn't easy, though,
and I failed a lot. In the fall of 2012,
I took a trip to Bolder, Colorado, to meet other entrepreneurs
who were pursuing their dreams. As soon as I got there, I knew
this was exactly where I wanted to be, but, if I was to move to Colorado, that would mean that my girlfriend and I
would have to do long-distance. So, I got scared and I went
back home for a few months to figure out what I really wanted to do, but, truthfully, I was just terrified. The day after I got home,
there was a blizzard. It was cold, and I was miserable. So, I got on a plane
and flew to Costa Rica. (Laughter) What else was I supposed to do? (Laughter) I'll never forget it: I was sitting at this cafe in San José,
having a morning coffee, and I was reading a book, and the first line of a chapter said, "Oh, so you thought by traveling
you could run away from your problems?" (Laughter) What else was I supposed to do? (Laughter) "Oh, so you thought by traveling
you could run away from your problems? But you realized that
your problems are within you, so they come with you wherever you go." That's exactly what I was doing. I was in Costa Rica,
running away from my problems. The trip was supposed to last
for 40 days, and it lasted 12, and those 12 days were full
of stress and anxiety, and I spent the last week of it
in a hotel room in Dominical, waiting to go home. I was terrified. So, I flew back to Canada
and felt like a failure. Five days later, my girlfriend
broke up with me. It's funny how these things
work sometimes. Here I was, my business is failing - my trip to Costa Rica, a disaster - and now, my girlfriend leaves. I felt like a total loser
and like I was back to square one. So, I spent the next four months
developing courage, and finally moved to Bolder, Colorado,
in April of last year, and it was one of the best
decisions I ever made. Yes, the environment was fantastic; yes, the friends I made were great; but truthfully it was the decision to take
the leap and have the courage to do it that made the difference, to honor something inside
I knew I wanted to do, but had ever done. Your passions may not be DJ'ing,
or traveling, or working for yourself. Whatever they are, pursue them. It will make you feel proud
and it will make you feel happier. My friend Alexi Panos says, "Don't follow your bliss.
Be your own bliss." Finally, I learned
that rejection is a compass. It teaches you what you don't want
so you can learn what you do. My friend Preston Smiles says, "Out of our biggest rejection
comes our biggest sense of direction." Six months after moving to Colorado,
I booked a plane ticket to Europe. I had always wanted to go to Europe,
but I'd simply never booked a ticket. So, I did and I traveled for two months,
and it was incredible. But, truthfully, I just felt proud with the fact that I pursued
something I wanted to do. I went after a goal. When we get rejected,
it's so easy to view it as validation. It's so easy to try and identify with it. Don't identify with it. Rejection is not you, it is not you, and it doesn't define you. You define you. Viktor Frankl says the last human freedom is our ability
to get meaning to our circumstances, and I believe that to be true. I was rejected, I was bullied,
and I felt depressed, but it was only up to me
to change my circumstances. Nobody could do it for me. So, why me? Why are these my stories? Honestly, I may never know, and you may never know your answer either. Sometimes, that's just the way it is; the answers simply don't exist. The truth is there wasn't a reason why me. It just was me. It's part of my story, and that's okay. It sucked, and that's okay. Rejection is okay. But what I want you to know
is that I'm grateful for it. I'm grateful for it
because it gave me a choice. It gave me a chance to start again. What I want you to know
is that you are not alone. You are not alone. You, and me, and so many others
experience this exact the same thing every single day, and that's okay. Rejection is okay. Reach out and ask for help. Be brave. You don't have to do this alone. Finally, my challenge to you is this: what's your turning point going to be? Mine was when I realized that, if I could change
the circumstances, I would, and when that light bulb went off, I knew I had to take
responsibility for my life. So, what's your turning point going to be? Because, ultimately,
you've got to make that choice. You've got to make
that choice for yourself. So, choose, choose yourself. Thank you. (Applause)
Hi guys! If anybody has any questions I'm here to answer them! Hope you're all having a wonderful day, thanks for checking the video out. :)