To whom it may concern,
I am writing to you in the hopes of procuring an internship or career with your company. I have attached my resume and online portfolio for you to review at your convenience. But there are a few other aspects of my character I would like you to consider.
I am not my resume.
Yes, everything on there is as close to truthful as it possibly can be. My attached portfolio is in fact my own work. But both of these PDFs are only small chapters of the story I wish I could tell. My time spent working, volunteering, and studying are not the only ways in which I’ve spent my time these last few years. I moved away from home and learned how to successfully wash my clothes without shrinking them. I navigated the ins and outs of being a member of a sorority and having to hold myself accountable for my actions because they spoke to something bigger than I was. I learned to cook without burning the apartment building down. I learned how to pay hospital bills, semi extreme coupon, and recycle. In between working long hours at an internship and studying all night for cumulative finals, I became an adult.
I am relatable.
I am sympathetic. I am understanding. I am caring. I am not a robot. I shed tears, give hugs, and offer smiles. I want nothing more than to exemplify a powerful, driven career woman, but I am a person. A real, flawed, person. Whether you are my boss, coworker, or morning coffee barista, I will care for you and your role in my career. Because you, too, are a real person.
I’ve learned of life’s loss.
I’ve grieved over the death of my grandfather as a college freshman. I learned to live without friends I’d had since I was little. I had my heart broken and I, in turn, broke a heart. Life has made me a bit harder than my younger self was. So the days when my smile is not up to standard or my eyes are not perfectly mascaraed, know that you will still receive the very best version of myself. Although I’ve willingly claimed my baggage, I will check it at the door ever day.
I am not always well put together.
The girl you see during the interview is not real. She spent two hours getting ready and perfecting her hair, makeup, and outfit. The real me spends 20 minutes showering, getting dressed, and slapping on Chapstick. The real me won’t have makeup concealing her dark under eye circles from the night before when I had to take my puppy to the ER vet because he ate my stash of chocolate. The real me won’t know every answer to every question. The real me will come to work tired sometimes. The real me will also come with coffee spilled down her shirt more than once. The real me will mess every thing up sometimes. But the real, imperfect me will also learn from her mistakes.
I am a work in progress.
My resume is not finite. Neither is my portfolio. I am young and ambitious; I do not plan on stopping where I currently hope to start. This job I am applying for probably isn’t going to be my ending point. I’m 20 something, not tied down, and have a lot of life left to explore. So when my wanderlust is aching, the time is right, and my work with your establishment is finished, I will probably move on to the next opportunity. But I definitely would love for this position to be a chapter in my professional story.
Sadly, this stuff would never end up in a cover letter or as a response to an interview question. It will remain ignored. Instead, I would write a letter to sell myself to your company. My paragraphs would market me rather than explain me.
