Yesterday was a very interesting day—and quite enlightening for me.

I somehow ended up at a job interview in one of the Berlin Senate committees. The interview was meticulously organized, with every minute carefully planned out. It took place in two different rooms, and in between, I had to navigate through the labyrinth of a building that was constructed about 100 years ago, specifically for bureaucrats. The experience was unexpected, somewhat shocking, and eye-opening for me.

It became crystal clear to me, without any ambiguity, that I am absolutely incapable of even being in, let alone working in, such an environment. I no longer know how to dress appropriately, and my hairstyle is completely unsuitable for such institutions (let's face it, I've got a nest on my head, trying to outdo Einstein). The interview process itself, deeply formal, left me feeling confused and resistant.

It's no coincidence that I never worked for government organizations in Russia. Why I thought I could manage it in Germany—a country that has always been a model for Russia when it comes to bureaucracy—is beyond me.

I must note that everyone I interacted with yesterday was exceptionally polite and friendly. However, the acute sense of cringe never left me for a single second.

When I finally exited the building (only 50 minutes, though it felt like an eternity), I saw one of the next candidates who had arrived a bit early. Even before she entered the building, she exuded a sense of reverence. She was dressed in strict black pants, an appropriate long synthetic blazer (I would’ve been drenched in sweat— it was at least 25 degrees outside!), and cute black ballet flats. Yes, these are the kind of people who work in such organizations, not creative hurricanes like me, stumbling over their German.

Thanks to years of therapy, my ongoing interest in psychological topics, and finally finding the right medication, I didn’t spiral into self-loathing after leaving that building. Instead, I clearly saw that my eagerness to find my place within the social system, even one as progressive as Germany's compared to Russia, and my efforts to "format" myself to meet its expectations, are fundamentally futile. Simply because I belong to a completely different world. And that world is so individual that no one but me can write the script and create the set—or at least arrange it all on stage. There’s nothing to regret or be sad about; there's no need to worry about my "otherness." I just need to live it fully and not get distracted.

For this realization, I’m very grateful to Human Design, which finally made me see my nature clearly, and to psychology, which helps find the way trough the debris created by my efforts to "fit in," "meet expectations," and do everything possible to be loved by everyone around me.