Work, work, work, work, work

The not-so-subtle art of getting a job

Lately I’ve resurfaced on LinkedIn with full force, as if I was defrosted from being cryonically preserved for a long time, and realized I had a lot of catching up to do. A lot has changed on there while I’ve been absent. There are so many think pieces circulating.

My full-time freelance job ended five months ago, and I was gainfully unemployed enough to take a much-needed break from working for a while. Then a month ago, I decided that it was time to get back on the old capitalism-machine horse. Naturally, LinkedIn was my first stop to “financial freedom” (LOLZ)–and I started updating everything besides the twelve-year old profile photo I’ve been using to catfish my employers. (Although, is it really a catfish if I still look like I’m 27? Asian don’t raisin is real!!!) This is the old-ass photo, by the way:

Once I was done with the housekeeping, I started tackling those unanswered messages in my inbox:

“Hi, [name]! I know you messaged me back in 2021 about this job opportunity. This is a long shot but are you still hiring?” There were so many messages I never read that amounted to missed job opportunities. So I responded months and years later. Because you never know. I’m a leave-no-rock-unturned kind of person.

So far, job-hunting in general has been freaky. Now that I’m living in Milan, there are less roles I qualify for. Especially if I want to continue on my nascent career as a Senior Content Designer for U.S.-based companies. And until I’m fluent in Italian, I’m not really a good candidate yet for anything local.

Scarcity mentality wreaks havoc on the logical parts of the brain too. Some days–depending how long I’m doom-scrolling job listings–I start convincing myself that it’s fine to accept offers that I’m way over-qualified for. It’s not that I’m above any type of task–but I can’t be fake-humble and say that I shouldn’t be paid my worth in an industry I’ve been a part of for 10+ years. I know my worth. But sometimes, those hiring managers on the other side of the screen might not care how highly I think of myself.

Today, I hit an all-time low when I direct-messaged my ex-boyfriend from the ninth grade on LinkedIn. He’s the only connection I had to a company that I’m applying to – and when in internet Rome, do as the internet stalkers do. Although, I think we all can agree that we shouldn’t be adding people on any type of social media if we don’t ever want to hear from them.

I made contact. I opened with: “Hi, [name]! It’s your ex-gf from the 9th grade.” And then I rewrote the rest of the message a few times, because I was worried my sheepishness was palpable with all exclamation marks throughout. Trying too hard? Maybe. My final message was as follows: “Wuzzup! Saw a job at [x]. Saw u on here. Can u connect me? Thx. TTYL.”

Just kidding. I was tempted to default into early 2000s jargon as a joke, but I didn’t. My actual note was much more professional. Yet it still felt incredibly bizarre and cringe baring my unemployed soul to the guy I used to make out with at the quad – and the same guy I broke up with after the Valentine’s dance. Do we think he’ll hold this against me? Anyway, if there’s such a thing as LinkedIn etiquette, I guess I don’t know it. Let’s see if he responds.

Just like with dating (which I’ve done a lot of), even the failed attempts are helpful practice runs. I’ve met with two companies since I started looking. After several rounds of interviews, all parties (including me) concluded that I wasn’t the right fit for either. However rejection from people (and companies) I’m not that excited about still scorches the ego.

Rejection can open up old wounds we may have endured in our childhood. I’m sure we all have some outdated triggers: the adverse affects of putting ourselves out there, only to be turned down. Of not being welcomed to the club or the cool kids table. I’ll never forget when Kelly Cheung told me that she and the other 3rd grade girls weren’t going to be my friend anymore. That feeling of melancholically wandering solo around the basketball court during lunch, while she and the others traded stickers–it’s the same feeling that hits when a hiring manager tells me I didn’t make the cut.

Luckily, as I inch closer to my older and wiser self, I’m better at not letting these formative injuries impact my feelings of self worth. It’s taken effort and $therapy$, but also getting rejected many times before helps. Not just in bouncing back from a failed attempt to get hired, but also in conjuring up enough chaotic courage to DM an ex who I haven’t talked to since puberty. And frankly, when bills are piling up, there’s simply no time to sit around feeling sorry for ourselves. Bounce. The. Fuck. Back. If we can. I hope we can.

I also try to lean into community. I know that sounds like a cop-out way to wrap up this rant, because it feels like trite, hokey advice. But it’s tenable advice when the world is so big and resources feel so strained. LinkedIn fatigue and even real concerns of getting physiological/safety needs met, can be remedied when we ask for help, and when we offer to help. Whether that’s sharing personal anecdotes to validate disappointment and fear, hooking someone up with an introduction, editing someone’s resume, disclosing salary details or passing along a job opening– this type of care works. There’s no reason for gatekeeping. Because we’re all on this painfully bumpy ride together, just trying to get to where we need to be. So, let’s strap in and hold hands, please.

And Eric, if you’re reading this – I’m sorry I broke up with you in 9th grade. And please read the LinkedIn message I sent you. Help a (ex) sister out.