When I’m interviewing a candidate, one of my first questions is simple: Tell me the story behind your resume.

I can already see what’s on paper, and I often expect AI has helped polish the language and align it with keywords. What I’m really curious about is the part AI can’t write: your actual experience.

I’m not asking about personal details, and I'm not judging delivery. I’m listening for what’s job-related. I want to hear the twists, turns, and unexpected changes. I want to hear what you learned, how you responded, and how you decided on your next step. Maybe you highlight a pivotal moment, a bit of luck, or even a mistake. 

When you tell your story, two things happen: first, the interview begins as a human-centered process, not just a scan of bullet points. Second, a person emerges beyond a resume, with a perspective shaped by lived experience.

The Apology of the Curvy Line

Somewhere in the telling, many candidates pause and say: My career hasn’t been a straight line. They say it like an apology.

I always respond: So what? Most careers aren’t. Mine certainly isn’t.

The curvy lines, the pivots, detours, and unexpected chapters are where people learn, grow, and build resilience. They’re what make someone interesting, adaptable, and ready for the challenges of real organizational life. Not every turn feels purposeful while it’s happening. Some are confusing or discouraging, but they still shape how we see ourselves and make sense of our path in the world.

Why do we feel the need to apologize for careers that are about discovery and growth? Isn’t that the point?

More often than not, it's the curvy line that takes us where we’re going. Individuals entering the workforce now understand this best. A career with varied jobs, multiple skill sets, and transferable experience isn’t a weakness; it’s a necessary strength. Gen Z expects many career turns, not always by choice but because of the world they’re stepping into. They’ve had to meet disruption with adaptability and resilience.

Of course, many career turns don't come from choice. Layoffs, caregiving, inequities, and upheaval all shape our paths. The ability to choose, pivot, or take a risk often reflects privilege. Bringing awareness to when we’ve had that freedom, and when others haven’t, creates more compassion and realism in how we talk about careers. Recognizing those differences and listening with an open mind is part of hiring in a diverse society. 

My Own Curvy Line

I know this because my own path has been anything but straight.

In my younger years, I had one foot in nonprofit work and the other in hospitality. I loved the people drawn to purpose-driven missions. And I loved the joy of hospitality, creating an experience that made people feel cared for.

My curiosity about people led me to the Peace Corps in Madagascar. My service was cut short by political unrest, but it left a mark on me in many ways. I learned the value of throwing yourself into new and unfamiliar places, especially when you don’t know where it will lead. I was challenged to step well beyond my culture and perspective, to see the world and humanity from a wider lens. I learned how vital it is to stay curious about what makes us the same and different. 

Back in New York, I managed restaurants and found a passion for building teams and supporting others to do their best work. From there, I leaned fully into HR, especially in creative environments where empathy, service, and mastery are at the center. That turn was pivotal. After years of what felt like random directions and pit stops, I found a sweet spot where my curiosity about people, joy in designing experiences, and need for broader purpose overlapped.

Looking back, the through-line is clear: every twist brought me to the next. Some of those turns came from chance or privilege, and I carry that awareness with me. Remembering that helps me consider my story and listen to others with humility.

I couldn’t have scripted it. There was no map. I’ve let go of wishing I were someone who “knew earlier.” If I could tell my younger self anything, it would be this: keep finding the next step that combines your interests, strengths, and a contribution that can sustain you. The rest will figure itself out. You’re not behind. 

Why Stories Matter

Recruiting is changing fast, but stories, connection, and meaning are what keep us human. A rich and honest story of self can’t be generated. That’s ours to keep. Relating to another person’s experience, or being moved by it, is the kind of deeply human exchange that will always matter.

Once someone is hired into a group, those same foundations — connection and shared experience — are what make collaboration possible. They’re the fabric of collective success. Fostering those connections should always be central to how we design work into our society and our lives. At least, that's my aim. 

That’s why I ask candidates for their story. It reveals more than a resume ever could and shapes where I go deeper in the conversation. It’s not about how polished their telling is, but about what their story reveals — how they learn, adapt, and make meaning from experience. Hearing someone’s story helps me understand not just whether they qualify for the job, but whether they’ll thrive in it. It benefits both the client I’m recruiting for and the candidate.

Final Thoughts

For candidates: tell your story proudly. The right organization will value your curvy line.

For HR teams and leaders: make space for story. It shows us not only what someone has done, but who they are, and how they’ll respond when the next curve comes. When you make the right hire, they don’t just join your organization — they become an important part of moving its story forward.

P.S. If you’re someone who inspired me, gave me a chance, or helped me find the next curve — thank you!