I’m currently writing this on a flight right now, a last-minute flight I booked as part of an opportunity that was presented to me. If you know me well enough or if you’ve followed my content long enough, then you know that I always say yes when opportunities are presented, and this was one of them.
I’ve been struggling recently with what to write. Writer’s block, maybe? Summer brain perhaps? Or maybe I just haven’t been inspired much lately? I’m not really sure, to be honest, but every night I’ve sat down to write, I’ve struggled.
I think it’s reflected recently in my subscriber numbers, as I’ve lost a few recently. It’s painful to get that unsubscribe notification, but it’s also part of the process and a signal that maybe I’m not delivering content that is working for people.
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On another note, I want to share something I went through last week that I think will resonate with many of you, and since I have a platform to do so, I’m going to share it.
I’ve been interviewing for a new role, as my previous one was eliminated at the end of April. I will tell you, it’s a wild job market out there. Most of the roles I’m seeking aren’t posted, and I’m finding my way to them through networking and my connections, or through recruiters. AI has taken over the applicant tracking systems and rejects resumes like a beautiful girl swiping the wrong way on dating profiles. It’s tough to get seen, and it’s tough to get through. I’m grateful for the network I have built because otherwise I think I would be up to a few hundred applications with rejections at this point.
But about two weeks ago I had an executive recruiter reach out to me from a very well-known large private equity group for a VP role. This was a role that was going to become a conglomeration of roles as someone was leaving, and they were making the decision to not replace this individual 1:1; rather, they were taking the opportunity to meld together some job descriptions and then bring in a new hire.
My first call with the recruiter went very well; in fact, the hiring manager knew me as a result of me being a reference for one of their key hires a year prior. So there was already familiarity with me and my background. I told them I had a few companies that were progressing with me, and if they wanted me, they probably needed to move rather fast. They took that seriously, and within the next five days I met the SVP/GM, the COO, and the SVP of HR at their corporate office. A day or two later, they asked me to start a case study, and in the middle of that, they booked me a flight to go to LA to meet the rest of their Executive team, including the CEO.
So the order of events was that I would finish this case study, then 24 hours later I would fly to LA for the final steps. I mean, look, I’m no expert, but if you’re moving that fast with a candidate, it means you like them. I was preparing to get an offer mentally from them in the coming days after this trip to LA.
That is until I went in and presented my case study, and things started to go weird.
Before I could even present my case study, I was thrown a curveball of a line of questioning that really knocked me off my game.
“Scott, before we get started, it has come to my attention....”
You never want to hear anyone in your career start a conversation like this. “It has come to my attention” is the equivalent of your parents calling you downstairs because they got a hold of your recent test scores before you did. Even worse, it’s like HR finding that Slack channel you started with your co-workers. Nothing good happens after, “It has come to my attention.”
So he continued.
“It has come to my attention that someone in our corporate office noticed on your LinkedIn header....” and he proceeded to read the message I had written.
If you’re waiting on me to say that my LinkedIn header said something profoundly disturbing, derogatory, and/or with curse words attached, then you won’t hear it. Instead, my LinkedIn header reads like this:
“Seeking my next VP of Sales opportunity. Proven track record in building teams, scaling revenue, and driving growth across multiple industries and international markets. Let’s talk before I get signed again.”
I stumbled.
“Umm, well, I guess I was taking a different approach to my LinkedIn while I am searching for a job. I have a large following, and I wanted to leverage that real estate to get noticed, so I wrote that.”
I continued, “Is there something wrong with what I wrote?”
In return, I got a curled brow and something along the lines of, “Well, I was asked about it, and I just wanted to ask you what the purpose of that was.”
I should have gotten up and walked out in that moment. First off, LinkedIn is my space to build my personal brand, not for anyone to question what I do there unless it’s unethical, derogatory, and/or creating a bad brand name that would reflect on an organization. Second, what this had to do with anything in the moment was shocking to me.
I should have asked questions to clarify, but I was so thrown off I didn’t even know what to do.
So then I was supposed to present a 20-page case study in the remaining 48 minutes of the meeting. I stumbled, my voice cracked, and I had to figure out how to get on track immediately.
I took a big breath, ran through the information I had prepared, and sort of hoped for the best. I was confident in what I was presenting. This wasn’t rocket science. It’s work I’ve done for years, and I know it, but to have to start with defending myself first didn’t make it easy.
Why was this an issue, I kept thinking? And by the way, if they had seen some of the stuff I’ve written with full transparency over the years about my take on corporate life nonsense, then sure, let’s chat, and I’ll give you my take, but to have to defend something that really wasn’t relevant was ridiculous to me.
The meeting ended, and I walked to the elevator. Keep in mind, this would be my next boss. I asked how I did; he said great and that he wanted to press more on some of my answers. Where was he going to press on these answers? At dinner, in LA the next day, because keep in mind I was scheduled to fly out in about 25 hours.
We said goodbye, and as confused as I was, I was still eager to get on the plane the next day and finish this all up.
Then, that night my phone rang. It was the recruiter. I answered; she took a big deep breath, “Scott, unfortunately, the CEO saw your background and decided he wants a candidate with more transformative experience.”
I laughed. There was nothing else to do in that moment.
No problem, I said, thank you for the opportunity, and it’s been great meeting everyone. Which was code for please tell everyone I said thanks for wasting my time.
I was going to take a pay cut for this role; that was how much I believed in the opportunity to do some fun things and work with what I thought was a cool brand and great people. By the way, to say I didn’t have enough transformative experience is a joke too. I’ve built 400-person orgs, I’ve worked across seven countries, I’ve done quite a bit at this point, and if you think you can find someone for that pay differential, then by all means be my guest.
I realize that companies go different directions. I’ve been there before; I’ve been there as a hiring manager, but the whole turn of events was so weird. How did we go so fast to sprint through the case study and final rounds, to buying me a flight and hotel, and then pulling the plug on it in the eleventh hour? I had literally just checked in for my flight.
What happened, I’ll never know.
Did I fail my case study? Did my LinkedIn rub someone the wrong way? Did they truly want a candidate with a different background? The answer is maybe in there somewhere, but for it all to go so sideways so fast was just odd.
And while I felt bad for myself, or more or less icky, I felt really bad for the thousands of candidates who go through this process every single month, holding on for dear life that this next role is going to be the role that helps them get health insurance, pay their bills, and get their career back on track. I’m blessed in the fact that I have other opportunities progressing, and I have things going on to fill the void at the moment, but not everyone has this, and it sucks.
That conversation that a candidate has to go through with their family to explain why their flight got canceled and how, all of a sudden, they were rejected out of nowhere isn’t fun. These are real-life decisions that have an impact, and to treat it with such a cold demeanor proves the real bones of an organization.
I let 24 hours pass. I had to process it all. I was frustrated, but also happy it happened the way it did because it stopped me from joining a company that would ultimately disappoint me later anyway. I wrote the obligatory thank-you note to the hiring manager, who wrote me a very cold note back, probably to mirror how cold mine was.
The whole process is a mess. The candidate process is so challenging, and you may be wondering why I choose to share this. It’s simple for me: I want everyone to have an opportunity to have a voice. I think that’s why I value my platform, to be able to share real-life things with you that happen that don’t get the airtime. This message doesn’t show up on LinkedIn, although I would love to present it there on behalf of the little guy, I guess I still have to be somewhat protective of my brand on there, which sucks. I want to be all gloves off, no editing, no censoring, nothing, but that’s not where I am today.
My encouragement to you is to continue to diversify your network, diversify your income streams, and take care of yourself first and foremost. Don’t trust your career to anyone but you. It sounds like the jaded Uncle in the corner spouting conspiracy theories, but it’s true. You have to look out for yourself first and foremost because nobody, no company, no team ever will care about your career as much as you will, and frankly, nobody will ever be responsible for your life like you.
So if this story resonated, I’m sorry. It happens all too often, these weird recruiting situations. I’m not irritated they passed on me; they had that right. I’m irritated the way the series of events all went, and frankly, that’s enough for me to feel the way I do today.
So here I am, on another flight, headed toward another opportunity, still saying yes even after the last one fell apart in such a strange way.
Nobody will ever care about your career as much as you will. Keep building your network, keep creating options, and keep moving.
That is the part I want you to remember. You are allowed to be disappointed, frustrated, confused, and even pissed off when a company handles your career carelessly. You just cannot let their decision convince you to stop moving. Keep building your network. Keep creating options. Keep protecting your income, your confidence, and your identity outside of any one job. The wrong opportunity can disappear in a phone call, but the next one may already be waiting at the gate.