Dear conservationist, your worth is not resting in the hands of your potential employers.

Dear conservationist,

I don’t know about you, but the world of conservation jobs has always been rife with emotion for me. For a long time, having a paid job in the industry has been tied to my identity as a conservationist, and more often than I’d like, my jobs have been too powerful in determining the state of my mental health. I am about to share with you a story that is wildly uncharacteristic in my career, and that is because I, very much on purpose, sabotaged a job opportunity.

It must be said that I have never, until now, had the privilege of sabotaging a career opportunity before. Instead, out of necessity, I have taken all sorts of jobs in remote places, with scant wages, and with many different breeds of eccentric people. I don’t know what has driven me more in my career, the notion of my identity being tied to my work or the intrinsic need to survive. Ironically, I am not sure if many of my career choices contributed positively to either my perception of myself as a legitimate conservationist or my survival for that matter.

If this seems bleak, fear not, for I am very fortunate to have evolved since this long and enduring time of my life. In fostering this amazing community of Lonely Conservationists, I have slowly but surely learnt to separate my identity from my career and, if you can believe it, advocate for myself to get jobs that pay my bills, and then some. In fact, I was so confident in my newfound evolution that I decided to go for a communications role for an environmental consultancy that paid more than I had ever dreamt of being paid.

Stepping into the office, I was excited to have an interview at a place that boasted a good culture and that paid well. I spent all day preparing and my answers to the panel reflected my preparation. I asked the questions I wanted to ask and shared my suggestions for improving communication from my perception of their services and online presence. At the end of the hour, they instructed me to send me my references and an example of my writing. I left with a smile and good feelings about the interview.

But somewhere along my 45-minute drive home, I decided that I would not be sending my references or an example of my writing. I couldn’t stop thinking about the corporate attire of the office workers or the office itself. I just didn’t feel corporate enough for this role, especially considering I attended the interview in my hand-made skirt and my younger sister’s hand-me-down blazer. I decided I would sleep on it, but after waking up feeling the same way, I emailed the company to let them know that I’d be pulling out of the running.

After some reflection, the corporate nature of the office was not the catalyst for my decision, even though you’d still never catch me in a pantsuit. It was the fact that I was at the lowest point of mental health that I can ever recall being in. I was just about to leave my job and catch the break I needed, and the prospect of starting a new position seemed too overwhelming, even if I knew I wouldn’t have to start the job until I got back from my trip. I couldn’t bear the thought of asking my referees to vouch for me, and the potential of having to let them know that I wasn’t good enough. I couldn’t bear the thought of a company determining my worth. My mental health was so fragile that I needed to take the power away from anyone who could affirm my reality that I wasn’t good enough.

In a weird twist of fate, the employer was the one who felt rejected by me. They wondered if it was something that they had said or something that their company had done wrong. Tears welled in my eyes as I received a message from them asking me these questions. So many times, I had been rejected from positions with no semblance of an explanation as to why, and yet, here I was, being expected to provide a reason for my decision. It seemed unfair. Despite my nerves and frustration, I called them up and we had a chat. During so, I explained how the corporate nature of their office culture may not be so great for me, and that in my short time in the office, I felt a bit like a fish out of water. Maybe if I could visit the field sites, it would be a different story, but during the interview, I had been informed that these trips would be few and far between.

Fortunately, they were understanding but also saddened because I was their top candidate for the role. Unbeknownst to me, they appreciated how different I was and that I could add something new to the company. In the end, they interviewed someone else who was also a good fit for the role, and I am glad that the position most likely went to someone who was really excited about their new job.

In case you are wondering, no, I didn’t regret my decision then, and three months later, I still don’t regret it now. I went and had my much-needed break and returned with a newfound zest for my career. My plan was to have that time to work out what I wanted to do with my life, so coming back to a pre-determined job would have stifled that intention. For so long, I was trapped in a deficit mindset, thinking that each opportunity that came my way was fleeting and would never come again. The truth is that I kept applying for jobs, and soon enough I landed some more interviews.

The true happy ending to this story occurred regardless of whether or not I landed another job. Two months after sabotaging the job opportunity, I was on the train heading back from my first interview since that day. I felt surprisingly calm and knew for sure that whatever decision the employer made about me, was not at all associated with my worth as a person. The truth is that sometimes multiple, if not all interviewees could do the job at hand. Sometimes the only factor separating the successful applicant from the rest is as small as one skill, one answered question, or one personality trait. Sitting on that train I felt so proud of myself for knowing that my worth as a person was no longer tied to potential employer’s perceptions of me, and also, for trusting that more opportunities would come my way. Reading the rejection email that followed, I still felt this way, proving the strength of my newfound belief.

For those who are curious, I did successfully land a job from the interview that followed that one. Nobody in the organisation wears pantsuits, and the work is done not from an office, but from a shared space. Of course, I still wonder if I will fit in and how this role and organisation will shape my perceptions about my work and self but at least I am mentally and physically robust enough to show up and do the best that I can.

I hope that I can continue to demonstrate to the wider community that it is okay to advocate for your needs as a career conservationist. Take a break if you need to and interview organisations back about their culture if you need to. It’s even okay to not take a job if it doesn’t feel right for you. Just know that there is an abundance of opportunities waiting for you, even though it may seem impossible to believe right at this very moment. It’s also okay to work ANY job, just for survival. Sometimes landlords kick you out, sometimes the cost of living is too high, and sometimes our families need help. Sometimes life just happens to us, so just know that your identity is not in any way tied to your career. You can still be a conservationist even if you are a barista, a communications manager, or a supermarket attendant. It’s more than okay to be scared of the future, but if you can, try not to let fear make your decisions for you.

You’ve got this!

Jessie