To Whom It May Concern

To Whom It May Concern:

I’m applying to a job in which you’re not going to give me a chance.

I’ve been interested in writing since I’ve been a little girl. I remember going Trick-or-Treating as an eight year-old bunny and someone asked me what I was going to be when I grew up. I said, “A writer.” And I smiled, thinking about all the crazy, amazing things I was going to write. I’ve been writing ever since.

I have gone through a lot of hard things in my life. I have life experience. I have sat in countless rooms, been asked what I feel and how I think about certain things. I’ve been asked to reevaluate the way I live. I have almost died (twice). That’ll teach you some things about life. I’ve written about it all, at every angle along the way. However, I can’t put it on my resume, so it looks like I’ve done nothing with my life.

We find journals of amazing writers, years after they’ve died, and we cherish them. The thing is, even though I'm not "amazing," but I am, in fact, an experienced journal-author. I’ve learned to communicate what others are too scared to put on the page. I have books full of ideas, material for research tucked away under my childhood bed. The other journals are in my current bookshelf, close at hand, in case anyone ever gives me a chance. In case anyone ever says, “You’re good, you should pursue this.” Because they have, except I’ve never been paid for it in return.

Maybe people in my personal life think I’m too strong, or too capable since I’ve done hard things, that they don’t give me the help I need. Maybe people in the professional world think I’m too unstable or unqualified. I’ve written university-published articles. I have been graded in college for work I tirelessly created to make sure it represented work I was proud about. You go to college to obtain a degree. You put in the effort and the time to achieve a specialty. And that’s still not enough. It never is.

And that’s what you’ll judge me on: I’ve never been good enough to be compensated for my effort. You can’t pay for passion, and I can’t happily earn money without it. I’ve tried my lot at jobs, having zero passion. I'd treat it as a job. It’s never enough: money, fulfilment, enjoyment.

You want to pay me because I’ve done my time with a lesser title, because I know someone you know. You don’t want to take the time to know my personal work and count it for anything. I won’t get a chance for being good (great) at something, and you’ll never know the passion I’ll bring to my success.

My background and achievement as a person in the world is note-worthy. I’ve worked hard on myself and will work hard for your company as a writer. I have a proven track record for success in living, in doing things I don’t necessarily want to do. Ask my parents, the doctors and therapists. I am disciplined, stubborn and relentless at obtaining my goals.

I’m a creative, happy person, because I know what it’s like to be degraded as an insignificant being. Every rejection letter pounds it further, but I keep going, like an idiot who doesn’t know when to stop. I express myself with the written word, in case you don’t catch my soft voice. I play with words because people listen when they’re not being formally educated. I say what I mean because I don’t like to be mistaken for something I’m not.

So you’ll read this and make an assumption about me: I’m bitter because no one has hired me. And I am, a little. It’s a shame to me, that someone can “know me” by a piece of paper listing other job responsibilities. The jobs I had to get because I put others before me and moved away from my own desires; because I was in therapy as my full time job; that I delayed college because I almost died (again, twice); that I made a comeback and needed as much time and help as I could access.

I truly hope you’re different. Writing is a yearning I’ve felt connected to my entire life. My qualifications for this position extend above the job description, and you’ll enjoy getting to know the person working for you. And you’ll appreciate how people react to me in my life when I say I work for you.

I appreciate your time and consideration for this position as a writer within your company. My hope is that your reading apprehension is better than your human resource check-off list of applicants. And that you’ll understand that quality of people, quality of passion and experience is not always available to see. That no one has given me the chance I desire, and that is a reflection on their companies.

I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Thank you,

Sloane Doesn't-Matter