The Day I Told Myself The Truth. Are You Ready?

I remember sitting in the interview chair of a prestigious Executive Search firm in Manhattan, around twenty-five years ago. Behind her grand oak desk, the interviewer didn’t know that the dull thudding sound she heard was the sound of my knees knocking together.

 I’d been a headhunter for a few years by then and I was good at it. I worked for a boutique firm that migrated from Manhattan to a New York suburb, where my colleagues and I were all new to the industry. We gloated over filling Wall Street jobs and making gobs of money-- matching candidates we’d never even met in person to Hiring Managers we’d also never met. The money flowed easily as long as I worked the phones hard, back when paper resumes were faxed or mailed and the internet was a twinkle in some Silicon Valley entrepreneur’s eye.

So why was I squirming uncomfortably in the interview hot seat of a fancy executive search firm, when I was usually on the other side of that desk? And why was I so scared?

It’s human nature to want more __  (you fill in the blank) when things don’t feel perfect yet in our lives.

 When you’re dating, you gaze at your boyfriend and wonder if there’s a guy around the corner with bluer eyes, better prospects or one who’s less inclined to cheat on you. Or suddenly the second floor apartment you snagged last year has lost its panache--and wouldn’t the two-bedroom on the sixth floor with the view of the park be a truer reflection of what you envisaged for yourself?

It’s also human nature to want more when things are going really well. Like myself in the late 1980’s—making more money than I ever thought I could earn without needing to climb the corporate management ladder  or wear a suit to work everyday. I’d convinced myself that after honing my recruiting chops in the scrappy agency that gave me my start, I’d already learned everything I needed to learn. 

I’d decided that the grass would be greener at a company where the brand was well-known, and that a company with large, gold letters on their double doors was the place where I should hitch my star.

Only it wasn’t. Guess what? I didn’t get the job. And years later, I’m glad I didn’t.

We need to use our personal yardsticks to measure success on our own terms. But we often trip over them. How you define a successful career is crucial:

·      Does the work you’re doing contribute in a way that utilizes your own special talents? Are you able to do your best work in the environment you’ve created for yourself?

·      Does your job offer you stretch opportunities—allowing you to contribute to exciting projects, partner with a variety of people and learn new skills at the same time?

·      Is your job in synch with your personal value system so that you can work with integrity and sleep well at night?

Getting better at figuring out what you should do with your career is like figuring out if your best friend really is all they claim to be.

Your best friend should be a good listener. Does yours disrespect your wildest dreams? Are they unreliable—finding excuses to put off supporting you when you need guidance or when you just need someone to lean on? Do they dump too much drama, passive-aggressive behavior, moodiness or tantrums all over your best-laid plans?

Maybe it’s time to let that person go from your life. Even if it’s you.

You may have manufactured an image of an ideal career that delighted your parents, your college professor, your spouse or your friends...but it may no longer serve you. And the sooner you purge this inauthentic image, the sooner you can get at your own truth. The truth of why you really show up for work, other than just to pay your bills.

Years later, I realized that I interviewed at the search firm because my interior dialogue  whispered in my ear that I should align myself to a company that was bigger, brighter, more well-known for me to be happy. Turns out I wasn’t really built that way. At that point in my career, smaller was better. 

Besides, I hated the idea of wearing suits and wasting all that money on dry cleaning.

Telling the truth feels good. Are you ready to have that conversation with yourself?






image courtesy of flickr's Bender.SecondLife