2 Questions Every Girl is Asking Herself

Chapter 82

The job hunt commenced once again in earnest. To help narrow down my search, Henry kindly dug out a list of companies that are licensed for visa sponsorship. These are companies that hopefully won't be freaked out by my expiring visa, because they could legally extend my stay by three years if they decide to hire me.

With at least the visa problem potentially out of the way, the only challenge that remains is convincing employers that I'm special. I pored through Henry's list (of tens of thousands of companies) mining for job leads. I applied to jobs that I'm over qualified for and for jobs that I'm under-qualified for. I applied to all types of writing gigs spanning fashion, culture, music, and international news. I asked accomplished writers out to coffee. I studied the latest trends from Milan Fashion Week (such as luminescent sequins), the hottest bands, and memorized catch phrases from magazines to tailor each application. I researched the hell out of every company, the blog and the founder's history, picking out interesting conversation starters, and choosing each word with care, mirroring my voice to theirs.

Still, nobody got back to me.

During this dark and depressing period, I would often meet up with Louie to "study together". Louie lives nearby and has become somewhat of a confidant since we met just a few months ago. He works on his spreadsheets from work, and I work on my resumes to get work. Most of our "study" sessions are quite pleasant, rendering an otherwise boring and solitary activity a community event. And allowing us (mostly me) to commiserate.

On one of these evenings I found a job lead And this one I really love. A full-time content writing gig at a creative agency called JPC. It has "interesting" written all over it. The job touches on a variety of topics covering start-up culture, social insights, girl power and theatre (this I love!). The successful candidate will own the editorial calendar, assign posts to team members and write content of her own. Aside from storytelling, there will be a project management component, which I can link to my consulting background, perhaps (finally) giving me an edge against the competition. I love this job description. Henry loves this job description. Louie loves this job description too.

"Do it," Louie tells me.

But reading on, I find out the job calls for five years of experience. My heart sank. I scrolled down to a more junior role, and began the usual process of studying the company blog, searching for a conversation starter. Of course, at the back of my mind, I know my efforts are probably futile. The closer I read the job descriptions, the more out of reach they seemed. At the end of every application, I thought, "Another one gone," and my chest tightened with defeat.

"Why would anyone in their right mind hire me? Why would any business person in his or her right mind hire a CHINESE girl, to write in ENGLISH, in ENGLAND?!"

Louie paused from his absorption in The Economist.

"It takes half a year to learn a job before you can actually add value," I continued. "My visa is expiring in four months. Why would anyone, ANYONE, in his or her right mind want to hire me? It wouldnt't make any sense!"

Knowing it's a rhetorical question, Louie didn't respond. He went on reading his magazine, while I stared into space. Then calmly, matter-of-factly, without even looking at me, he said:

"Someone... will take a chance on you."

Hearing this, I'm struck nauseous with new hope. Someone will take a chance on me. It was as if the clouds parted and light rushed in. He isn't trying to give me a pep talk. He isn't trying to cheer me up. He is just saying it. He says it quietly, normally, confidently. He says it as if it's a simple law of nature. When there's been too many rainy days, there's bound to be one sunny day. Just as there are two sides of the human mind: the side that looks to the past, of tradition, of safety and of the proven method, and the side that looks to the future of what is possible.

Someone will take a chance on me.

With that in mind, I set to work. I made a goal with myself to send out four applications a day. Four may not sound like a lot to you. But it was all I could manage. Between finding new leads, the research, and the meticulous tailoring, I could only complete four applications a day. This is cover letter couture. I decided to let myself off the hook from worrying that applying to four jobs a day instead of twenty means I'm not trying hard enough.

Everyday I went to bed exhausted. But it was a good, satisfying kind of exhaustion. Knowing I'm keeping my promise to myself.

I continued this routine every day over the next week, and with Louie joining me after work more days than not for moral support.

Eight days later —eight short days!—an email pops in. It's from the Head of Content at JPC. Her tone is warm. She informs me that the job is available. On top of that, it's an opening for a more senior role than the one I applied to. It turns out the company was looking for someone with a few more years of experience, who can manage projects, is self-motivated and who basically gets out of bed in the morning to write great content. But there are parts of my CV the cover letter that she found appealing, so she wants to talk. She asks if we can arrange to meet at their studio, the very next day!

I tell her that I would love to. And that I can't wait to find out more about the work and the stories I'll be writing for their new blog.

When I wrap up the email, Louie says, "Can we go celebrate now?"