So, Tell Me About Myself

Gary Burnison explains how to calm your nerves before a job interview.

February 16, 2026

Gary Burnison is CEO of Korn Ferry and the author of I Need a Job!

A cross between a trip to Disneyland and a visit to the dentist—welcomed, yet dreaded. That’s how many people feel about job interviews. And it’s understandable.

It was a few years ago, yet the scene is still vivid.

Leg pumping, notecards shuffling, resume pages spread across the table. I approached the man sitting in a corner of the coffee shop. He was memorizing his resume like a script—as if auditioning for Wicked and needing to know all the lyrics.

“Job interview, huh?”

He looked up, intense, wired on his triple red eye—with three shots of espresso. “Yeah. And I really need this job.”

I nodded. “I get it. You gotta just take yourself out of the moment. Relax. Reflect. Reset. An interview is a conversation—like we’re having right now. Not an interrogation.”

Then I asked a question that probably took him by surprise. “Do you have a picture on your phone that’s special to you?”

He held up the screen. “My family.”

“Imagine that it’s two hours from now—the interview is over and you’re heading home to them,” I added.

Immediately, his whole demeanor changed. Gone was the consternation—and in its place the confidence to make a real connection.

We might ask ourselves: why do capable, qualified people short circuit so much in interviews? The answer lies in how our brains operate under stress. Often, it’s fight or flight.

The more stress we feel, the harder it is to access our working memory—and all those crisp answers we practiced. Frankly, it could, and does, happen to many of us.

Which brings us to a few stories where the people are anonymous, the innocent are intentionally protected, and the missteps are all too real.

Highly creative—but crashing on details. Wanting to stand out, an applicant pursuing roles with automakers took a unique route. She filmed herself at a local dealership, weaving her qualifications into commentary about the makes and models of the shiny new cars—all while walking around the showroom. Creative? Absolutely. Except … she sent the wrong video to the wrong car company. And as for the videos sent to the other car companies, where apparently she was also interviewing—only the ATS knows for sure.

“What I meant to say…” Everything that’s said in an interview makes an impression—good or bad. Just ask the candidate who, while during a series of interviews at a very large beverage company, was asked what he’d like to drink. He replied, “I’d love a [insert name of soda made by biggest competitor].” First came the interviewers’ gasps—then the candidate’s stunned silence.

A case of video verbosityThe confirmation was clear and sent a week in advance: a 30-minute online interview. Once on screen, though, the candidate was off and running—nervously chattering about the weather, their excitement over the interview, and untold other topics. Seven minutes in, the interviewer squeezed in a question. The candidate, resume in hand and eyes glued to the paper, recited what seemed like every role and responsibility, accolade and accomplishment … for 22 minutes straight.

We all have moments in life we wish we could rewind—when our natural human instincts are so easily superseded by our insatiable desire to make an impression.

But there is one thing we can do in every interaction and conversation. And it starts with our A.C.T.

Be Authentic—No need to memorize the message, we are the message.

Make a Connection—It’s not about us; it’s always about others.

Give others a Taste of who we are.

With our A.C.T., people see us—just as we focus on them. That’s when the transactional becomes the relational. Yes, it’s about the contribution we can make, but most important it’s about connection.

It recalls a touching story told to me a few years ago. A recent college graduate was asked in an initial interview at a biotech company about his biggest success. He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m just average. That’s what my father always tells me.”

Moved by his painful honesty and humility, the interviewer paused, offered a reassuring smile and remarked, “I’ve learned it’s never about what others believe, it’s what you believe.”

A few interviews later, he was hired. Hearing the news, the interviewer said she wished she could have called his father—and told him just how exceptional his son really was.