EssayENIdeas
Maybe the others are hoping just like you
Why we so often see other people as judges of us—and forget that they, too, are hoping for something.
Benjamin Trinidad Segura
6 min read
Loading context…
Why we so often see other people as judges of us—and forget that they, too, are hoping for something.
Benjamin Trinidad Segura
6 min read
On job interviews, first encounters, and the curious habit of seeing ourselves through other people’s eyes.
Sometimes situations change not because we become more confident, but because, for a moment, we stop thinking only about ourselves.
Imagine you’re sitting in a job interview.
You’ve prepared, read over your résumé once more, thought about possible questions, and perhaps even rehearsed an answer to the question of where you see yourself in five years.
A question that probably wouldn’t even get a truly convincing answer from the person who’s about to ask it.
But anyway.
You sit there, waiting and hoping you’ll make a good impression.
That you seem likable. Competent. Interesting enough.
That you say the right things and as little as possible that you might regret on the way home.
In your mind, someone is sitting on the other side of the table, ready to judge you.
Someone you have to convince.
But have you ever wondered what that person is thinking right now?
Maybe they’re someone who’s been trying to fill a vacant position for weeks. Someone who’s read countless résumés, conducted interviews, and sent out rejections.
Maybe their team is overworked. Maybe a colleague is urgently waiting for support. Maybe they’re under pressure themselves.
And maybe, just before you walk into the room, this person is thinking:
Please let this finally be the right person.
So while you’re hoping they’ll like you, they may be hoping you’re exactly the person they’re looking for.
You’re sitting in the same room.
With different expectations.
But perhaps with the same hope.
I find this thought interesting because it reaches far beyond job interviews.
Take a first date.
You wonder what to wear, what topics might make for interesting conversation, and whether you should perhaps act a little differently than you normally would.
After all, you want to be liked.
You want the other person to find you interesting.
And while you’re trying to avoid doing anything wrong, you overlook something pretty obvious:
The other person chose to meet you, too.
Maybe they’ve had the same thoughts. Maybe they’re just as nervous. Maybe they’re also hoping to finally meet someone they don’t have to pretend around.
Even so, we often treat these encounters like a test.
As if one person were deciding whether the other is good enough.
When really, it’s about finding out whether two people are a good fit.
Not about who can convince whom.
And certainly not about who can most successfully pass themselves off as someone else.
It’s much the same when we speak in front of other people.
A presentation. A talk. Perhaps an idea we believe in ourselves but are voicing publicly for the first time.
Suddenly there’s an audience.
And in our minds, that audience quickly turns into a group of potential critics.
What if I stumble over my words?
What if someone notices that I’m nervous?
What if my idea isn’t as good as I thought?
But many people in the audience are there for a pretty simple reason:
They want to take something away from it.
To hear an interesting story. Learn something. Discover a new idea. Maybe even be surprised.
Of course, some people listen critically. They may disagree or spot mistakes.
And attention isn’t automatically judgment.
Sometimes there are simply people sitting in front of us, hoping their time will be well spent.
That’s actually a lovely thought.
What stays with me about these examples isn’t the realization that everyone is secretly our biggest fan.
That would be nice.
But also pretty naive.
Of course we’re judged. Of course there’s rejection. Of course we’re not right for every person, every position, or every situation.
And sometimes there really are people who don’t wish us well.
That’s not what I mean.
It’s about the perspective we bring to our encounters with others.
We are the main character in our own lives. We experience our thoughts, know our insecurities, and understand what certain situations mean to us.
By contrast, we usually see only a small part of other people.
Their facial expressions. Their words. Their behavior.
And from this little information, we build stories about what they might think of us.
Often, these stories are remarkably unflattering.
Maybe he thinks I’m boring.
Maybe she thinks I’m incompetent.
Maybe everyone thinks I don’t belong here.
But how do we actually know?
We don’t know what’s on their minds, what expectations they bring, or what insecurities they’re trying to hide themselves.
And yet sometimes we treat our assumptions as facts.
And suddenly, we’re no longer responding to the person sitting in front of us.
We’re responding to the image we’ve formed of them.
Perhaps that’s what interests me most.
We want other people to understand us.
To recognize what we can do. Who we are. What we mean when we say something.
We don’t want to be reduced to individual mistakes. Not to a bad first impression. Not to some idea someone has formed of us.
But how often do we give other people that same attention?
How often do we really try to understand what makes them tick?
Not just what they say.
But why they say it.
Maybe the person interviewing you isn’t as distant as you think. Maybe they’re simply exhausted.
Maybe your date isn’t uninterested, but nervous.
Maybe someone checks their phone during your presentation because something has just happened at home.
Maybe.
We can’t know.
But that’s exactly the point.
Ourselves, too.
I don’t think this thought will suddenly make every insecurity disappear.
It won’t automatically make job interviews more relaxed. First dates won’t be any less nerve-racking. And anyone who’s afraid of speaking in front of people will probably still be nervous after reading this.
But perhaps something else will change.
Maybe we’ll enter the next room with more than just the question:
What will these people think of me?
And ask a second question, too:
What are these people hoping to get from our encounter?
Maybe then it won’t be only about making a good impression.
It’ll also be about getting to know someone.
Not just about speaking persuasively.
But about sharing something valuable.
Not just about being liked.
But about finding out whether we like each other at all.
We spend a surprising amount of time wondering what place we occupy in other people’s minds.
And sometimes we forget that these people lead lives just as complex as ours.
Full of hopes, doubts, expectations, and probably a whole lot of thoughts that have nothing to do with us.
And maybe that’s reassuring.
Because not every glance is an evaluation.
Not every silence is rejection.
And not every encounter is a test.
Discussion
Disagreement is welcome. Disrespect isn’t.
Start the discussion with a thoughtful response.