I once heard that the stress of preparing for a job change is about as heavy as the stress of divorce. For me that sounds a bit exaggerated, but I do agree the load is serious. With each round of interviews my self-esteem crumbled like sand on an open palm, and I caught myself regretting my whole life. What had I been doing all this time? I started to worry that if I kept preparing like that, it would shorten my life. From the company’s side, the story is simple: you’re rejected because you weren’t the right fit for the seat they needed to fill. From the candidate’s side, it becomes: so this is all I amount to, a spiral of self-reproach.

In my own experience, interviews went well when the tension fell away. At some point the question “what does the interviewer think of me right now?” would disappear from my head; my tongue would loosen, and I’d talk plainly about who I am. Then I’d catch a satisfied smile around the corners of their mouths. The opposite was starting tense, noticing that I was tense, and getting even more tense because I noticed it, until even simple questions stopped sounding like Korean. I’d furrow my brow as if I were thinking hard, while my mind was already blank. The moment I told myself “my mind is blank,” thought stopped and cold sweat ran down my back.

Even so, interviews were mostly enjoyable for me. The downside risk of failure wasn’t small, which gave them a reckless thrill. While preparing, I’d hypnotize myself: “I’ve built this and that. I’m a decent person.” Then on the day itself I could talk about myself freely for an hour or two. Once the fear dropped away, it was fun. I’m not especially talkative, but I’ve always had a strong urge to express myself. Going on about “this is who I am, this is how I’ve lived, this is what matters to me” reminded me of getting drunk with an old friend and trading half-baked philosophies of life.

The downside was that once I started working and accumulated real experience, interviews for mid-level roles spent less time on “me” and more on what I’d actually done. But even that wasn’t so bad. I’d been lucky enough to work on things I genuinely enjoyed, so I liked being able to talk about what I’d studied and experienced.

After preparing and failing, the path ahead often looked clearer. Reading the requirements and preferred qualifications on postings for companies and roles I wanted gave me a rough blueprint for what to study next. After each interview, reviewing what I could answer and what I couldn’t let me see more objectively where I stood and what I lacked.

That process of preparing and interviewing led me to the company I’m at now, and I’m quite happy with how it turned out. I ended up at a company I wanted, in a role I wanted, experiencing the culture I had hoped for, and working on more interesting problems with sharp people. Staying here for life might be fine in its own way, but I’ll probably face another season of job hunting someday. Still, on balance I think preparing to move and actually moving has kept pushing me forward and helped me grow.