“I can’t think of a worse fit for this than you.”
A colleague told me exactly that phrase when I announced I was leaving my job to join the government.
Simon, if you’re reading this, thank you.
You were right. It only took me a year or so to realise.
He wasn’t the only one though.
Someone else had the same idea; he already worked in the government agency I was interviewing at, he was obviously senior to me, and held the same opinion about me and my suitability, even though he didn’t yet know me.
Once I was hired and installed in the new-to-me government job, he was always approachable, friendly, and professional with me, and he would constantly correct my brash, direct approach, which to be fair, was always totally the worst approach to take.
It was only much after I resigned from my government job (with a 2 line email – yes, I haven’t forgotten I need to dig that up and share it) that I learned that he had cautioned his superiors about hiring me.
“Knowledgeable? He absolutely is,” he had said of me.
“But, he is not a good fit. He’s not a good match. The only match he could be is one that starts a fire, because he’s a loose cannon.”
I may be paraphrasing a little, but that was the gist.
Harsh?
I thought so back then, but I don’t any more.
He was right.
This guy knew more of me than I knew myself, and yes, I was knowledgeable, and in that job, in a position I hated, in a department I despised, and working on crap I didn’t believe in, I absolutely and totally was a loose cannon.
And I was the worst fit possible for that job and for that role, and for that department and for that life.
So, here’s to both of these two people, both of whom were fair and true and correct in their assessment of me, and both of whom taught me much about myself and about making sure that the fit is right before jumping headfirst into something.
