Interview Anxiety

I did a hard thing not long ago. I was interviewed for a position I really REALLY wanted. I hadn’t interviewed for anything in almost a decade. I guess I tend to stay at jobs for a long time. Maybe even longer than I should. More on that another day.

The day of this interview was different and new and anxiety-provoking and bowel-moving (TMI maybe?). I don’t like being interviewed, or being tested, or being scrutinized, or being judged. I do like to talk, but not under pressure.

Isn’t it funny how the quality of your answers is like a U-shaped curve? Like you have reasonably good answers in the lead up to the interview even if you’re so anxious that you’re not sure you can deliver them. But you prepare and think positive thoughts and remind yourself “you got this!”

So you’re riding the positivity wave before the interview and in the car ride to the interview and in the parking lot of the building and maybe even in the bathroom of the building where you might try “power-posing” your way to greatness (yeah, I saw it on a TED talk once and decided to try it).

Then you have fantastic, and I mean exponentially better, answers after it’s all over, as you’re walking back to the car, and driving home, and sitting in traffic, and while you’re making dinner—boy, aren’t you a genius now?

But right there in the middle of the interview, when you’re sitting across from critiquing eyes and fast fingers gripping pens scribbling notes on white ruled paper pads, your brain decides that maybe this job really isn’t that important and going offline would be the best course of action.

Tell me if interviews don’t play out something like this for you:

The interviewer asks a question. You repeat the question thoughtfully. But your mind is as blank as the look on their face. As blank as you wish it would be when you’re trying to meditate or when you’re on holiday and all you can do is worry about when you have to go back to work or when you’re trying to relax after a long day. But at that crucial moment? There’s nothing there.

You think to yourself: this is a question I should know the answer to. In fact, I KNOW I know the answer to. Eight years of experience and I have zero examples of how I managed boundaries? No way. More blankness. Nothing. Not a fucking thing. I know I’m better than this.

Okay subconscious, it’s all you, baby girl. My higher brain functions have clearly failed me at this exceedingly critical moment of my life and career. So I open my mouth to speak. I pause, thoughtfully I might add. Does this make me look smart? No dumbass, it makes you look slow. Say something already! Jesus! Fuck! I’m trying!

And then, before you know it, it’s over. Your one chance to impress these people is over. They smile and thank you. You smile and thank them. And you walk away trying not to be self-critical and overthink it all, but you end up being self-critical and overthinking it all anyway.

Or maybe that’s just me?

And if you’re wondering–yes, I got the position.

[Sidenote: The voice in my head is a hard taskmaster. Especially in moments when the stakes are high. It’s something I’m continually working on. You’ll notice that in my positive and uplifting posts, I like to use words like “darling” and “beloved” and “dear one”. Now you know why.]

Grace and peace, beloveds.