There’s a saying going around when it comes to a job hunt that the companies who deserve us, get us. After a year of job hunting with no results whatsoever, I’m real skeptical. However, I’m going to make today’s post an open letter to the company who deserves me, if it exists. Here goes.
Dear Company:
We’ve never met. I don’t know you from Adam or Eve, and you don’t know me from Eve. Not yet, and from where I stand now, probably not ever. Why, you ask? I’ve been looking for you for a hair over a year at this juncture in my job search, and I haven’t found you. Therefore, I have come to the conclusion that it’s highly unlikely you exist. Sorry, not sorry about my skepticism in that respect.
Sure, I’ve found companies I thought were you, but in the end, I was mistaken. They couldn’t wash their hands of me fast enough after they cut interviews short. Nothing I had to offer was even remotely good enough for them, it isn’t now, and it never will be good enough for them.
What was (and is) so wrong about me?
Anything, nothing, and everything, according to these companies. They just didn’t want me, and they looked for every excuse to justify it, whether I met their arbitrary standards or not.
Fine. Their “no” is a complete sentence. In the end, it doesn’t matter why, or why they even bothered to interview me in the first place if they knew they weren’t hiring me. I no longer care why, because it won’t change anything.
It won’t change the way far too many of them have acted toward me, and at this point, what’s done is done.
Their “no” is my closure. Their actions toward me is also my closure. It has to be. I’m not giving them any more power over me than they already do, and I’m not giving them the satisfaction.
If giving me a chance will only make them feel like they’re stooping to my level in order to do so, then they can walk their happy asses back out the door they came in.
I don’t want them or anyone else to feel like they have to stoop on my account. If they do, then they’re not you. They’re not the company who deserves me.
On the off-off chance you actually exist, and you’re more than welcome to make a liar out of me on that one, then I want you to know that my experience may not “directly” relate to the role I’m seeking with you. However, I have skills that I’m more than ready to transfer into the role. So many companies have made this their hill to die on, and they’ve shown that they don’t care whether my transferable skills and career history is an asset or not. It’s not “direct” experience, and that’s the only thing that ever mattered to them.
I hope it’s worth it for them. I wish whoever they chose over me the best of luck in their new role.
I don’t want you to be afraid of my transferable skills, or afraid that I’ll outgrow this company. If I do, then so be it. It is what it is. I’ll stick around as long as you’ll have me, whether that’s three months or three years.
On top of my transferable skills, which I’m more than ready to bring to the table, you’ll get someone who’s got the drive and the dedication to get things done. I’m a fast learner. Show me something once, twice max, and I’ve got it down like that.
In return, I ask the following:
I ask that you trust me. Sure, we can e-meet each work day to touch base and get into some shop talk, but beyond that, I need the space to get things done, with the knowledge that you’re there if I have any questions throughout the day.
I ask that you respect my time. This will be a remote role, but when the eight hours of work time is over, I need to know that whatever doesn’t get done in that amount of time can wait until the next day or until the next work day, without penalty. I’m done pulling all-nighters over a job, once and for all. This isn’t negotiable or up for discussion.
I ask that you pay me what I’m worth. This also isn’t negotiable, and I’d really like to not be homeless. Right now, this is the closest I ever came to that actually happening, and the closest I ever hope to come to that.
I ask that when you have a problem with my work or me, you take it up with me directly, and do so in a constructive way. Instead of resorting to character assassination, personal attacks, screaming at me, and ganging up on me with your buddies to scream at me (all true stories, btw), I need to know where I went wrong, and what I can do differently next time.
In the meantime, I’m ready and waiting to find you. Question is, are you ready for me?
Aaand, mic drop.
Over to you, readers. Have you found the company that deserves you and wants what you have to offer? If so, I’d love to hear all about it. On the flip side, are you still looking for that company? If so, then know that we’re in the trenches together. Either way, I’d love to hear your takeaways, so drop ’em like they’re hot, and let’s talk.