I had an interview this past Thursday. I wouldn’t have applied for the job if I didn’t think I could do it and might have a slight chance of enjoying it. However, once I started talking to the gentlemen conducting the interview, I started to feel my sureness slipping. With every word they spoke, I drifted farther away from the Island of Confidence. By the end of the interview, I’d floated miles away, couldn’t even see the beach, and I felt bad for wasting their time. I also felt like an idiot because I knew what they’re probably thinking. Why did that girl even bother? Wow. What a waste of time.
This happens just about every time I go in for an interview. If it doesn’t, it’s because I really don’t want the job in the first place. The questions asked I approach calmly, coolly, and almost always get a job offer—an offer I always turn down. I know. I don’t make any sense to me either. I mean, I get why I nail those interviews where I’m relaxed and feeling like nothing important hangs in the balance. But why do I even apply if I know I don’t really want the job? Maybe it’s because I need the ego boost of knowing that someone still finds me employable, but more likely it’s that those jobs lie within my comfort zone. When I apply for something outside of my comfort zone, that’s when I flounder and sink, miles from shore with the Island of Confidence a mere dot on the horizon.
Unfortunately, I have a comfort zone that lies in the least lucrative positions. My bar is set low. But how do I get comfortable with bumping that bar higher? How do I build myself a house among the trees on the Island of Confidence and live there? Well, I’m doggy paddling through the waves, heading back toward land. It will take me a while to get there. I’m not a good swimmer. But I can see the beach and I know just where I’ll set up residence.