The Headhunter’s Just Not That Into You

Today’s story is written by Jill Di Donato.

In the world of Sex and the City, everything in Carrie Bradshaw’s orbit seemed to exist as a reflection of her dating woes—which not only made for a scintillating column, but also validated her life experiences. This type of serendipity appeals to a writer’s clever streak, or more aptly a desire to appear clever while also confirming that everything in life (and love) has meaning. 

My recent dalliance with an executive recruiter—a profession who a colleague once described as “worse than a PR”—has me nostalgic for a simpler time, when I modeled my career after Carrie’s. What would an executive recruiter make of Ms. Bradshaw, with her shabby-chic desk and neurotic command of prose? No, Carrie was too cool for a headhunter; but you never know, maybe an executive recruiter was behind her $4 per word at Vogue.

In any event, as my executive recruiter went on and on about an opportunity at a fintech startup, in the span of our conversation I had begun to think of myself as executive material. After spending more than a decade in digital media with a slew of titles like sex columnist, fashion editor, beauty blogger, and creative director, I’d given up the cool girl persona because I’ve reached a point in my career where I’ve been priced out of bohemia. When you’ve got bills to pay and a new baby to support, nothing is as glamorous as a cush paycheck. And although there have been times when I’ve commanded the executive treatment, the stakes have never been this high.

I wasn’t even sure I was ready to return to a full-time gig, as I spend most days in one of two spit-up-covered jumpsuits, writing after hours when the baby sleeps. And I’m content, mind you … at least I thought I was, until this executive recruiter called me out of the blue. An actual phone call in our scroll-swipe culture! As she talked about the potential position, I started to feel something that had eluded me for quite some time: I felt seen. This recruiter got me, as she boiled the arc of my career down to a couple sharp talking points that really excited her. By the time she brought up money, I’d already traded ABCs for KPIs and was rewriting my LinkedIn headline. The dollar amount she quoted massaged my ego. Not only that, for this cash, I could hire a full-time nanny, start a college fund for the baby, even buy a legit pantsuit. 

In life and love, I often jump the gun, imagining a prosperous future in order to disguise the uncomfortable anxiety of the present. This is also true in the job market, and I’m sure I’m not alone. Future forecasting can be more crucial to keeping your sanity than a secret Slack channel. Maybe it’s delusional; maybe it’s leaning in. In any case, I hung up from the recruiter feeling very executive indeed. Until the recruiter ghosted me.

Looking back on that call, I can’t help but wonder: Was she having the same chat with dozens of other candidates just like me? Or, even worse, was she talking to better, more qualified candidates? How did I really stack up? Would I ever really know? After three emails and two calls, she finally replied with a terse message. I failed to land the gig; the job had become a “moving target,” and although “they loved my samples,” they decided to go with a freelancer with whom they’d been working. The ambiguous “they” and canned response deflated me. I hadn’t even been looking, and all of a sudden I felt like I was being deprived of a world where I was a successful media mogul.

This whole situation reacquainted me with feelings of desire and disappointment so typical of our current obsessions with engagement and validation. Rather than seeing the executive recruiter as a matchmaker, I felt an intense pressure to woo her. Over the course of our minor interactions, I tried to impress her with trite platitudes and soundbites, which got me to thinking how the phrase “good vibes only” is the “live, laugh, love” for millennials. How original, impressive, or wow-worthy can you be in the span of a 15-minute phone call, and how sad was it that I’d felt seen by her in that span of time? I’d allowed myself to be breadcrumbed and didn’t even realize it. A pimped-out LinkedIn can only accomplish so much. The key to success is vibing with an executive recruiter so much so that you actually get the job. And if you don’t, well, it’s not you.