Not Getting the Job – The 7 Stages of Grief

In late October, I applied for the placement of my dreams. It was the one. At the time, there wasn’t a single company I wanted to work for more.

The application process was intense: a maths test, non-verbal reasoning, psychometric testing, and finally, three written questions about challenges I’ve faced and how I solved them. I spent six days drafting and revising those answers trying to make them absolutely perfect. By the end, I was second-guessing myself—but deep down, I was proud of the work and decided to trust my instincts.

About a week and a half later, I got a call from their Early Careers team. I had made it to the next stage: the assessment centre. I couldn’t believe it. I probably sat in my uni house kitchen, jaw on the floor, for 30 minutes.

Everyone told me, “Even reaching this stage is an achievement!” But to me, the real accomplishment would be landing the job and excelling in it.

With just four days to prepare, I had to race to London and I dove headfirst into research. I went through forums with a fine tooth comb looking for past interview questions and planned my answers. I had to prepare a presentation where I planned an event and created a brief for content creators.

Unfortunately, the timing wasn’t ideal. I had a university deadline the day before the assessment centre, so I was juggling two major projects at once. Whilst university is a crash course in time management this unexpected deadline was pushing me to my limits. I worked like a maniac, even finishing my presentation in the cab ride to the centre. To go the extra mile, I prepared a handout with additional details as I felt 10 minutes wouldn’t be enough to cover everything.

When I arrived, I was nervous but determined. The day was intense, but the staff were warm and encouraging. Over lunch, I chatted with the current placement students, asking about their experiences and gathering tips.

After my presentation and group exercise, I felt like I’d nailed it. I was confident in how I presented myself and my ideas. Even when unexpected questions came up, I had answers. I left the building buzzing with pride. I wouldn’t have changed a thing.

One of the assessors even complimented me during the group exercise, saying they’d heard ideas from me they hadn’t heard before. As I was leaving, a current employee told me, “I hope you get the job.”

For a moment, I really thought I had it.

But as the days passed without hearing back, doubts crept in. I replayed every interaction, every answer. I reminded myself: If it’s meant to be, it will be.

Six days later, I got the email. I didn’t get the job.

I was crushed. I reached out for feedback but never heard back. At first, I felt hurt. Then denial set in—maybe they’d offer me another role. Then anger: If they don’t want me, why should I buy their products ever again?

I spiralled into overthinking: Was it because I said I don’t want to work in social media? (even though this project made me realise my love for PR and social media)  Was my presentation too creative? Did I come across as too confident—or not confident enough? I don’t think I’ll ever know.

The constant back and forth ended when i realised that if I was the right fit they would have placed me, whether it be a different department or what have you.

This isn’t the first time something I desperately wanted didn’t work out—and it won’t be the last. Every missed opportunity has brought me something greater.

I didn’t get into my first-choice school, which led me to somewhere else where I made incredible friends and experienced my first love. A failed entrepreneurial venture pushed me to attend one of the UK’s top universities, where I’m currently on track for a first.

Ultimately I tried my absolute hardest and loved my ideas, I am still proud of the work I produced and life will go on. My career will thrive. I’ll work at another amazing company—or maybe even come back stronger for this one.

Signing off - with an assessment centre’s worth of experience, and onto the next.