So I had my first job interview the other day. All I can say is… yikes.
Well, it really wasn’t all that bad, but there was definitely a moment in which I felt my throat close up, my mind go blank, and my hands go clammy. When the interview ended, I felt like I had held my ground, but it wasn’t how I imagined at all. My mind jumped from paper blank to chaotic scribbles on a page once I closed that laptop. All the internal questions and all the self-deprecating jokes came up. All of them.
“What happened, dude?”
“Yeah, what the heck?”
“You weren’t like this with your college interviews.”
“Remember when you sat there and forgot what you were saying? I don’t think Charlie Chaplin could stay that silent, my friend.”
“Was it because there was money on the table?”
“It’s your first one. Everyone fails at some point.”
Yeah, no-brainer, everyone fails at some point. It is the peak of irrationality to expect everything to go as planned. (I draw on the Oscar-winning film Parasite: “You know what kind of plan never fails? No plan. No plan at all. You know why? Because life cannot be planned.”) So why does it hurt when things don’t go the way we imagined or hoped? Why does “failure” make us feel so set back when society argues it’s ultimately for our betterment?
Let me begin by saying, “failure” is a fluid concept (hence the quotation marks). It isn’t defined in the same way by everyone, and this is mainly because we all set up different expectations for ourselves. When that goal is all you can think of, all you can eat, sleep, breathe, bleed, piss, and sweat, of course it’s going to hurt when you don’t meet it somehow. It’s even more devastating if it was a new endeavor or a potentially life-changing opportunity.
So what do you do when you “fail”? You choked. All fingers are pointing at you.
You know what you do? You feel that “failure.” Meet it head-on. It’s just you and “failure” stuck in a room together. Let it hurt if it hurts. There’s never any shame in that. You spent a good piece of your time and energy into something, and you should take this time now to separate yourself from it and realize it wasn’t meant for you. And this is where the turn-around moment happens. It wasn’t meant for you. And that is okay.
“Okay, so it wasn’t meant for me. What now?” Look at it as a turn in the road on your path to where you want to go. Maybe a shortcut. You have no choice but to go forward if you really want to be where you want to go. Regroup. Make a list of alternatives. That can look like other jobs, new auditions, more interviews, anything. And go for those as hard as you did your last endeavor.
It can be excruciating to hear these types of things. It can sound so abstract, but if you’ve been in this position before, you can understand what I mean and where I’m coming from. It can also be hard to not get your hopes up and set your expectations so high. If that happens, find ways to ground yourself before you take on these opportunities (there are always plenty of grounding exercises to find). Fall back on your support spaces — family, friends, and peers. Remind yourself of what makes you happy and why you’re pursuing the endeavors that you are.
“Failure” isn’t an option. That’s true. It’s an inevitability. So when it happens, remember that “failure” isn’t the end. It’s only the beginning.