Fast-forward a few years and I was working in shiny offices in Boston, Zurich, Mexico City, Caracas, Buenos Aires… interviewing people for big roles in sales and marketing, making sure they showed me a glimpse of their killer instinct and entrepreneurial spirit. I made sure candidates were fully committed and willing to go the extra mile. When a couple of recent hires told me my interview had been the most intimidating, I felt proud.

And one day… Life. Happened.

When my second child was born, I no longer wanted to hop on an international flight every 2 weeks. And all of the sudden I was the one not going the extra mile.

I spent the next 5 years working in a new role and new industry that would give me more time with my children, but there was one tiny caveat: I was at the overachiever-underearner rodeo. Hard work would go unnoticed, and the frustration and resentment of being under-appreciated for the value I delivered was real. But nothing was as painful as staying stuck somewhere I didn’t belong.

The pandemic’s home-office setting gave me time and energy to revamp my resume and start applying elsewhere. But guess what? 5 years away from recruitment didn’t look good, no matter how I sugar-coated it. I was rejected, over and over again. Ever heard of transferrable skills?

But then, the unthinkable happened. An old friend approached me a year ago and trusted me with a role at a place that sounded straight out of a sci-fi-movie. A self-managed organization where I could establish my own development goals and find opportunities. And, by the way, set my own salary. C’mon, that’s too good to be true. I smirk because that’s what candidates probably think after they chat with me now.

So, what human-centered recruitment look like? I don’t schedule interviews. I chat with people. I let them ask the questions. I let them see my vulnerability. I look for the curious learner and the compassionate colleague. I want to hear your story, because the person at work is the same as the person at home, and that is perfectly OK. And by the way, everything you learn in life is a transferrable skill.

It takes one to know one: my path to human-centric recruitment was originally published in Greaterthan on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Fast-forward a few years and I was entering fancy offices in Boston, Zurich, Mexico City, Caracas, Buenos Aires… interviewing people for big roles in sales and marketing, making sure they showed me a glimpse of their killer instinct and entrepreneurial spirit. I made sure candidates were fully committed and willing to go the extra mile. When a couple of recent hires told me my interview had been the most intimidating, I felt proud.

And one day… Life. Happened.

When my second child was born, I no longer wanted to hop on an international flight every 2 weeks. And all of the sudden I was the one not going the extra mile.

I spent the next 5 years working in a new role and new industry that would give me more time with my children, but there was one tiny caveat: I was at the overachiever-underearner rodeo. Hard work would go unnoticed, and the frustration and resentment of being under-appreciated for the value I delivered was real. But nothing was as painful as staying stuck somewhere I didn’t belong.

The pandemic’s home-office setting gave me time and energy to revamp my resume and start applying elsewhere. But guess what? 5 years away from recruitment didn’t look good, no matter how I sugar-coated it. I was rejected, over and over again. Ever heard of transferrable skills?

But then, the unthinkable happened. An old friend approached me a year ago and trusted me with a role at a place that sounded straight out of a sci-fi-movie. A self-managed organization where I could establish my own development goals and find opportunities. And, by the way, set my own salary. C’mon, that’s too good to be true. I smirk because that’s what candidates probably think after they chat with me now.

So, what human-centered recruitment look like? I don’t schedule interviews. I chat with people. I let them ask the questions. I let them see my vulnerability. I look for the curious learner and the compassionate colleague. I want to hear your story, because the person at work is the same as the person at home, and that is perfectly OK. And by the way, everything you learn in life is a transferrable skill.