During the time that I am writing this to you, I am supposed to be preparing for an interview. It’s for an opportunity that I really want, and it could make a world of difference in my life if I got it. I know this. I know what’s at stake. I know I should prepare. But I am here, writing to you.
My non-preparation is not arrogance and I know it is easy to dismiss it as such. It’s not arrogance, it’s not apathy- I have plenty pathy, it’s not confidence, it’s not the lack thereof… It’s exhaustion.
I don’t know if English has the word for this type of exhaustion, but it’s not that I am physically or mentally tired. The year just started, and it will likely only go downhill from here. My exhaustion comes from this dance that we have to do around opportunities for growth, opportunities for success, opportunities to be something bigger than what we currently are.
You send out the application, you make the shortlist, you are called to interview, maybe you succeed, maybe you do not. Say you do not, you go back to the application phase and hope that someone in a panel of strangers sees something in you (or your 300 word cover letter) that they can take a chance on.
It is this dance that I now find myself depleted by. On any day, I am so painfully aware of who I am. I am aware of my strengths, my abilities, my potential. On any given day, I woman, hear me roar.
But on days like today, when I have to vouch for my worthiness, I am overcome by exhaustion. I have done this a million times before. I have been at this very step, just at the cusp of the thing that I want. And a million times I have been told no, just here, a metre away from the finish line.
I guess my exhaustion comes from knowing that it won’t matter that I made the short list, it won’t matter that I was called to interview; what will matter ultimately is the answer. Yes or no.
I don’t want this to wander into depressy territory, but the feeling I am feeling now is that of resignation, because I have been here before. And I really want to prepare and show up as my best self, but something in my system knows I have walked this path and have been hurt. I suppose that’s the way my body is protecting me from further rejection.
We don’t talk enough about how every aspect of our lives comes down to this pageantry of self-presentation in the hope of acceptance. We apply for jobs, we apply for school, we go on dates, we enter competitions, and all of it requires the dance.
I usually like to end these on a positive note so that you at least come back next week. But today, I don’t know if I have that. Today, I have exhaustion.
