Dear not-my-employer,
I am writing in reference to the job you advertised many months ago. You might remember I applied for that job. I poured my heart out into carefully constructed paragraphs, following a trusty formula of opportunity, strengths, pleases and thank-yous.
You might have written back, but probably you didn’t. Your rejection was a reality check, and then a confidence-killer. I started to think I was unemployable, and made peace with less fortuitous prospects. I cared at first, and later not so much. I resigned myself to the idea I was doomed — not intellectual enough for academia, not savvy enough for the real, working world.
But it all worked out fine. The right job found me. And then another, and another. Someone eventually saw some potential in the passion with which I spoke about time management and independent working and my other exciting qualities.
So after all this time passed, I want to thank you. Thank you for knowing I didn’t mean it when I said SEO is all I want to do in life. Thank you for not believing me when I said my extra-curricular activities at university perfectly qualified me for a job in marketing. Thank you for having the foresight to know it wouldn’t work.
I have recently gained some in-depth experience in sitting on your side of the table. I have new appreciation for the momentous task you had. I’ve thought long and hard about how to secure the people who will really add value to the company. How do you separate the creative from the articulate? The ones who can find solutions to problems from the ones who treat you like Siri for weeks? I have heard someone tell me that their biggest weakness is public speaking — or their meticulous attention to detail. I have kept a straight face as someone describes my company’s purpose wrongly, and then tells me how they have great research skills.
I have seen the wrong person be hired and struggle in a job. My eyes have watered when I see how costly subprime work can be. I have seen the strain it puts on others in the company. I’ve thought back to how many of the same mistakes I made, fresh out of university, looking to start my career anywhere that would take me.
You did the right thing. Hiring me would have been wrong. It would have wasted my time and energy, and your money and resources. It wouldn’t have worked out. We couldn’t make each other happy. I am happy now. I hope you are too. I attach neither my CV nor my hopes and dreams for your reference. I do not look forward to hearing from you.
Yours sincerely,
Shreya