Nerves

by grafixworks

I don’t believe it. I’ve had my first telephone interview this afternoon. It took everything I had to sound calm and collected while in my head I’m screaming you picked me to call. Yes, I know this does not a job offer, it’s a phone interview, but it’s just nice to know that at least on paper someone saw my value.

When I send my resume out into the ether, waiting for a call back is very much like when I was a teenager waiting for a boy I liked to call. You wait, and wait, and wait some more and at last you get a call. Might not be the boy you had hoped but it was a call. After the call you ask yourself, “I sure hope I didn’t sound desperate, over anxious, or worse cocky”. This is ridiculous. I’m flash backing adolescence. If I get zits I’m going to be really annoyed.

What’s with all these nerves? I’m a grown mature woman. It’s not like I’m not qualified. I’m not applying to be a brain surgeon or anything. I’ve been doing this sort of work for many, many, many years and I’ve earned and I’m proud of each and every one of those manys.

I wonder if I’m so nervous about interviewing because for the last year I’ve been berated and insulted. I’ve been told I don’t measure up and can’t do anything right. To this day I don’t know what I could have done to measure up. The bar kept changing. Even though I’ve have years of exemplary reviews along with employee of the month certificates, I allowed a small person to whittle away my self-confidence. That’s right allowed. I allowed it. I’d forgotten, no one can make you feel bad about yourself unless you let them. That relationship that had all the earmarks of abuse. Well, my abuser does not have control over me any more. I got “mad as hell and I didn’t take it any more.” (Peter Finch, Network) I’m shaking those toxic thoughts out of my head and moving forward. “Living well is the best revenge.”