My Ex is the interviewer

In all my years of job hunting, I thought I’d seen it all—group interviews where candidates quietly compete for air time like they’re in a low-budget improv show, tests that feel suspiciously like unpaid consulting projects, and panel rounds where you’re not sure if you’re interviewing for a job or auditioning to replace a judge on America’s Got Opinions.

But I had never ever considered the possibility that I’d open a Zoom interview and come face-to-face with… my ex.

Okay—not actually my ex. But close enough that my brain didn’t bother splitting hairs in the moment. The resemblance was uncanny, like they’d both been printed from the same “mildly charming, slightly dangerous” template. Same dark hair, same sharp jawline, same glasses, and that smile—the kind that makes you feel like they know something you don’t. Which, in my actual relationship history, was usually true. And never in a good way.

The second the camera connected, my body went into fight-or-flight. My face smiled. My brain screamed. My soul left to get a snack. I mumbled the standard “Hi, nice to meet you,” but my eyes were saying, Have we met before in a place called Bad Decisions?

We started the interview, but I was no longer in a professional mindset. I was in a psychological escape room. Every question felt personal. “Tell me about a time you overcame a challenge.” This one, right now. “How do you handle conflict in the workplace?” Ideally by not dating it.

And the way they tilted their head when I answered—oh, I knew that tilt. That was the “I’m about to poke a hole in your logic” tilt, the same one they used back when we were arguing about whether pineapple belongs on pizza. (For the record: it does.)

At one point, they asked, “Why do you want to work here?” My brain short-circuited. The truthful answer—Because I thought you didn’t work here—did not seem like a winning strategy. So I cobbled together a bland response about “growth opportunities” while wondering if this entire interview was just a cosmic prank.

Then came the behavioral questions. Nothing says “let’s focus on my skills” like having mild PTSD flashbacks in the middle of explaining how you manage deadlines. I was trying to sell my expertise in project management while also recalling the time my almost-ex-twin stood me up because they “lost track of time” in a board game café.

Finally, the interview wrapped up. They gave the classic recruiter send-off: “We’ll be in touch.” But I caught that subtle smile again—the one that could mean you did great or I can’t wait to hit ‘Reject’ faster than you hit ‘Leave Meeting.’

I closed my laptop and sat in stunned silence. I had just spent thirty minutes pretending to be professionally unshaken while internally wondering if I should text my friends, “You’re not going to believe who just tried to hire me.”

Spoiler: I didn’t get the job. Which is fine. Because as much as I want to believe I could work alongside someone who could double as the ghost of relationships past, I’m not sure weekly project updates and budget meetings are the place to relive my romantic near-traumas.

So here’s my advice to anyone out there: In 2025, the job market can throw anything at you—AI video interviews, 47-step applications, “fun” personality quizzes—but the real wildcard round? That’s when you log in for a professional opportunity… and instead find yourself in a high-definition flashback.