The CV Paradox

Compiling achievements, crafting resumes, and trying to fit our existence into a few pages of credentials. Can a list of jobs, degrees, and skills capture the depth of who we are? Beyond the paper trail of employment history lies something more—our essence, our culture, our way of life. Yet, these rarely make it into the records that society values. What if the most important parts of us remain unwritten?

We write CVs to get jobs. That’s what they say. A neat, structured document showcasing skills, achievements, and experiences—a carefully curated list of what makes us worthy of employment. But is that all we are? Is a life, with its intricate emotions, failures, passions, and beliefs, supposed to be compressed into bullet points and job titles?

Some people go through life never writing a CV. Imagine that. Never listing their experiences in a format that fits corporate expectations. Some become business owners, some inherit wealth, some are simply at the right place at the right time. Some live off the land, some trade their skills through word of mouth, and some… just exist without needing to “apply.” So, what happens if you never write a CV? Do you disappear from the system? Or do you escape it?

But here’s the real twist—when you die, does your CV matter? Nobody sits at your funeral reading out your work experience like an HR recruiter screening applicants. “John was a senior data analyst with five years of experience in Excel sheets and stakeholder engagement.” No. Instead, they talk about who you were—your kindness, your stubbornness, your laugh, the way you made others feel. The things that never fit into a CV.

And yet, after death, the CV transforms into something else—a biography. Now, here’s where it gets interesting. Who writes it? Who gets to say who you were? Often, it’s someone who never fully understood your inner world. They compile facts, arrange events, but they can never capture your "being". Your thoughts, your culture, your way of life—those remain hidden, never recorded in a format acceptable for job applications or history books.

A CV is written to get a job. A biography is written to sum up a life. But what if neither tells the truth? What if the essence of a person—the raw, unfiltered, deeply personal core—never makes it onto any page? The unsaid things, the inexpressible feelings, the thoughts that danced in the mind but never found their way into words? What if we are all more than anything that can be written?

And that’s why I refuse. My CV may exist, but my biography? Let it be left alone. No strangers picking apart my timeline, no comparisons, no posthumous analysis. Let my being remain untold, unfiltered, and untouched. Because in the end, we are not what we write—we are what we live.

Life moves on. The world doesn’t pause to read about us; it keeps spinning, faster than we realize. The irony is that while we obsess over crafting the perfect CV, the things that truly define us are often the things we don’t document. The stolen moments, the unexpected kindnesses, the dreams left unspoken. Maybe that’s where real existence lies—not in what we present, but in what we simply are.

So perhaps the greatest act of defiance isn’t refusing to write a CV or a biography, but living in such a way that neither is necessary. Imagine being remembered not for what’s written, but for what was felt—for the warmth left behind in others’ hearts rather than words left on a page. Maybe, just maybe, that’s the legacy worth chasing.

Intriguing? Perhaps. Mind-blowing? Maybe. Funny? Well, let’s just say life is one long joke, and a CV is just the punchline.