As a self-proclaimed introvert, struggling with moderate depression and constant self-doubt, I find my frustration grows stronger with each job listing I see for an entry level position in the entertainment industry. “Must have excellent phone skills; must have a friendly professional demeanor; must be customer service oriented; must have a positive upbeat can-do attitude.” Guess what? I have NONE of those things. And I probably never will.

For as long as I can remember, TV has been a great comfort to me. Whenever I feel depressed, it is there as an escape; it is there as a way for me to connect with fictional characters whose lives and problems I can relate to; and it is there to help me distract myself from crippling loneliness.

I have always wanted to develop shows that could reach people in the same way that these characters have affected me, and I believe that as an introvert, I have the strength to find these possibilities in a way that extroverts may not. On a Friday night, while the extroverts are at the bar, at a party, or at the club, I’m at home, watching television, scrolling through Netflix, or reading industry news. I am quiet; I am contemplative; and I understand human emotion.

The fact that I will inevitably stutter through my interview and awkwardly avoid eye contact has no effect on my ability to do this job well. In fact, I argue: it is exactly why I am the best candidate for the job. My life is television. I have only a few friends—those of whom I am deathly loyal to—but otherwise, I have a very inactive social life. Because of this, I am willing to stay late to get the job done; I am eager to study and learn from the best; and I am willing to do almost anything it takes to succeed (unless, of course, that involves answering phones).

With Grumpy Cat as my spirit animal, I am determined to somehow win over the extroverts with my sarcasm and dry humor and maybe someday have my own Lifetime movie and more.