How much of myself do I have to explain for you to understand me correctly?
Benjamin Trinidad Segura
4 min read
Lately, I’ve been thinking more often about how difficult it actually is to be understood correctly by other people.
And probably even more difficult is the question of what you’re supposed to do about it yourself.
Sometimes a single word is enough to make two people think of completely different things.
Kirmes. Kerb. Dippemess. Dom.
Depending on where you’re from, you know immediately what is meant. Or you don’t.
And even when two people are talking about the same thing, that doesn’t mean they understand the same thing by it.
That’s exactly what happens all the time.
In conversations. At work. In relationships. And especially in job interviews.
You’re sitting across from someone you may have known for 20 minutes, and you’re supposed to present yourself in a way that gives them as complete a picture of you as possible.
What do you tell them?
What do you leave out?
Do you talk about your past? Your present? What’s on your résumé? Or exactly what isn’t on your résumé?
How much context is enough?
I’ve known myself for almost 32 years, so naturally I find almost everything somehow relevant.
For me, point A connects to point B because there are ten experiences in between that, to me, are completely logically connected.
And that’s probably where a big part of the problem lies.
It’s much easier for me to sort things out when it comes to other people.
I have some distance.
I can listen and say:
That’s important. That, not so much. That explains your behavior. You don’t need that for this story.
I don’t have that distance when it comes to myself.
Maybe that’s why I sometimes talk too much. Maybe I’m too quick. Maybe you’re too slow?
No idea.
There’s no universal etiquette guide for how to explain yourself properly, either.
“Tell me something about yourself.”
Okay.
Which version?
The professional one? The personal one? The current one? The one from the last ten years? The one that’s relevant to this job? The one I think you want to hear?
And there’s another point that comes to mind.
Expectations.
How are you supposed to meet an expectation if you don’t know what it is?
If the other person needs a particular piece of information to understand me correctly, but I don’t even know that this is the information they’re missing, how am I supposed to provide it?
Of course, part of the responsibility lies with me.
I need to be able to communicate. I need to be able to put things into context. I need to learn not to tell every story with 25 asides.
But communication does involve at least two people.
Especially in interviews, I sometimes feel that a great deal of responsibility falls on the person who is supposed to explain themselves.
Be precise. Be relevant. Be authentic. Be brief. Give enough context. But not too much. Tell your story. But please, only the parts I need right now.
And if the wrong impression is left afterward, then your communication wasn’t good enough.
Maybe.
If I say something and you realize you’re missing context, ask me.
If something doesn’t add up, ask.
If you don’t understand why I made a decision, ask why.
If my answer is too superficial, dig deeper.
If it’s too detailed, guide me back.
Misunderstandings don’t arise only from wrong answers. Sometimes they arise from questions that weren’t asked.
I find it somehow strange to expect people to condense themselves perfectly in a very short time, while the other side sometimes takes hardly any responsibility for actually wanting to understand that person.
Maybe that’s exactly the point.
People are not résumés. Not profiles. Not ten bullet points. Not a 60-second answer to “Tell me something about yourself.”
Every excerpt can be accurate.
And at the same time create a completely false overall picture.
And why doesn’t the other person have the ability to ask questions so they can understand me correctly?
Discussion
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