Dear Hiring Process That Left Me Behind,

I remember the day we met. I showed up ready. I’d spent hours selecting the perfect, professional outfit—polished but not too much, impressive but not overwhelming. I styled my hair, put on lip gloss, rehearsed my answers. My desk was littered with sticky notes—reminders of the “right” things to say. I had done my research, prepared for every question, imagined a future where this job could be mine.

It’s hard to put yourself out there. It’s hard to hope for something better. It’s hard to risk judgment, knowing you might be found lacking. The process is long, tedious, exhausting. How can someone judge your worth in just 20 minutes? And yet, I logged into that interview willing to take that risk. Because for a moment, I believed it was worth it.

And I nailed it. I answered with confidence, connected with the panel, and left nothing on the table. I left that virtual room feeling lighter, hopeful, even a little victorious. I told myself, “That went well. They liked me! They want me!!” I let myself believe it, let the excitement settle in, let the possibilities unfold in my mind.

And then, I waited. First with excitement, then with patience, then with doubt. Days turned into weeks. The silence grew heavier with each passing day, pressing down like a weight I couldn’t ignore. Finally, I broke it—a polite follow-up, a gentle nudge. But still, no response.

In that silence, I started to disappear. I replayed our conversation, picking apart my own words, searching for the invisible mistake. Did I laugh too much? Not enough? Was I too eager? Too confident? Were my answers too polished? Too rehearsed? Was I simply not good enough? I thought we had a connection. I thought I mattered. But now I wonder if I was just another name on a long list, another voice fading from your memory the moment we disconnected.

I know I shouldn’t take it personally. But I do.

Because to me, you weren’t just another presence in a virtual meeting. You were an opportunity I took seriously. You were a future I was excited for. You were my hopes and dreams wrapped up in a 20-minute conversation.

Now, you are just disappointment, heavy and unshakable—not just of a lost opportunity, but of something bigger. You are the reminder that candidates are so easily discarded, that companies preach professionalism but don’t offer the same courtesy in return. That “you’ll hear from us soon” often means “you’ll never hear from us again.” That silence speaks volumes, and it says: You weren’t worth a response.

And I don’t accept that.

I am worth a response. I am worth a follow-up. I am worth more than the silence you left behind.

So maybe you won’t call back. Maybe you never intended to. But I will not let your silence define me. I will move forward. I will keep trying. And the next opportunity that comes my way—the one that values my time, my effort, my energy—that will be the one worth waiting for.

Sincerely,
The Candidate You Forgot