Can You Truly Ever Know Someone Or Is Their Resume Enough?
Hey Chat,
I have a love/hate relationship with résumés. Before AI, people had to craft their own résumés, making themselves sound polished and professional on the spot. Now, AI makes it easier—just type in what you did, and it’ll translate that into the ideal language for the job. Convenient for us, sure. But recruiters and hiring managers not so much, they see AI-generated résumés as misleading, a distortion of reality.
Instead of taking résumés at face value, they’ve now handed the task back to AI—to analyze, verify, and determine how much is genuine and how much is fluff. Which is kind of funny to me. Essentially what that means is they want to measure truth against embellishment and instead of fat check themselves they use the same tool. But truth and deception can exist in the same sentence, so it doesn't really solve anything. People lie, people tell the truth—and sometimes simultaneously.
Should I lie on my resumes?
And then there’s me. I’m just a small human trying to step into the corporate world with little to no experience in working in a big building. I put what I have done; it isn’t much in the professionalism realm, so my résumé is not all that impressive. So, I see why people lie to get the job! They are crafting an image—sometimes honest, sometimes embellished—for others to perceive only what they want them to see.
Résumés are a curated version of ourselves, we display the very best of our works much like how we present ourselves in relationships. In the same manner that hiring managers struggle to assess a candidate’s true potential beyond a résumé, can we ever fully understand another person beyond what they choose to reveal?
A résumé is a snapshot, a carefully constructed narrative—just like first impressions, social media profiles, or even Tinder and Hinge bios. In terms of obtaining a status people showcase only their great qualities. I think we all do this when we first meet a love interest. At least, I know I did, my poor partner had no idea that underneath the pretty girl facade was a hidden Andy Bernard. He didn’t know until we started living together and the walls became much thinner. And the same could be said of him. Even when we spend years with someone, there are still layers to unfold and to discover more unique quirks.
However, we are still interpreting them through our own lens. We project our experiences, expectations, and biases onto them, just as recruiters do with applicants. Just as no résumé can fully capture the depth of a person’s capabilities, no single moment or longevity can encapsulate the entirety of who someone is. Over time, as comfort and trust grow, more layers emerge, and we begin to see the complexity of the same person from different angles. Everyone has their own knacks deep within, that it seems impossible to know every reaction or know every thought of another person.
Some of Y'all Just Out Here
After reading What My Bones Know by Stephanie Foo, it confirmed my knowledge that people are deeply multifaceted beings. Each of us carries a unique story, down to the molecular level, constantly shifting and evolving with every experience and encounter. (I highly recommend this book if you are interested in how the body stores trauma in a scientific way and the different psychological navigation tools, she used to uncomplicate her diagnosis. Her story is very touchy but also beautiful in the way she grows throughout and uses amazing themes to tie it all together.) The book delves into trauma, identity, and the complexities of truly understanding oneself and Foo’s journey of navigating her diagnosis highlights those nuances. Her struggles, shaped by cultural expectations and personal history, showcase how difficult it can be to grasp the full depth of who we are. Even when Foo found a community of people with complex PTSD, she realized that despite sharing similar diagnoses, she could relate to anyone. Each of them had different lives, different coping mechanisms, and different interpretations of their trauma. This illustrates that even when people face the same challenges, their journey shapes them in unique ways. Just as no two résumés are identical, no two personal journeys are exactly alike nor could be exactly what you’re looking for. Knowing someone—truly knowing them—means recognizing this individuality rather than assuming shared experiences create identical perspectives.
No matter how much data AI processes, it still struggles to make perfect hiring decisions. Likewise, no matter how much time we spend with someone, there will always be parts of them we may never fully understand. People are in constant evolution, and even if we think we know someone today, who’s to say they won’t change tomorrow? And if they do, does that mean we never truly knew them at all? It is a bittersweet feeling, to think you know something to be true but having the rug pulled from under you in any given minute. It is thrilling but also fearsome depending on which end you get. It is the belief to be open to new layers, never accept things at face value, to allow depth and mistakes to form a persons’ character. Humans make mistakes, we are not robots which is kind of funny, because AI (basically a robot) makes mistakes too. (When they don’t hire me.)
No String Attach
This song of the week is Not my Baby by Amadelle. Capturing the bittersweet realization of moving on from someone who was once a significant part of your life because, you guessed, you don’t know them. The soft yet striking vocals paired with dreamy instrumentals evoke a sense of detachment and self-discovery. Much like the themes explored in this post, "Not My Baby" reflects on perception—how we see ourselves, how others see us, and how time reshapes those views. It’s a song about letting go and I think it is fitting for the theme because, can we ever claim to completely know another person? How much of that presentation is true? How much is designed to impress or conform?
Enjoy This Journey With Me
° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °
Enjoy This Journey With Me ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °
This isn’t the end—just a bookmark in the conversation. Stories don’t really close; they unfold, shift, and find new voices. If this one stirred something in you, let it breathe. Leave a thought, challenge an idea, or carry it forward in your own way. And if you ever feel like wandering through more unfinished thoughts, you know where to find me. Let’s keep the conversation alive. ~XOXO
