To be fully transparent, I’ll start by saying that I am not an expert on Danish culture.

I don’t know why Danes put their fork and knife to one side when they finish eating.

I don’t know why they insist on waiting at a red light when no traffic is coming, and I don’t know why they eat leverpostej.

I’ve lived here for just over three years now, and I’ve loved every second of it. Nothing makes me happier than knowing that my son will grow up in what I truly believe is the greatest place in the world, surrounded by the greatest people in the world.

In my experience, Danes as a whole get a bad rap. Sure, they don’t always want to talk to you, and they might cut you off in traffic, but if you need something, they are there for you—unless they have plans.

Ready to go to work – if only…

Recently, I’ve been the recipient of this Danish decency, thanks to a LinkedIn post. Over the last 6-7 months, I’ve been on what we can call a job excursion. My first two years here, I went back to school to get my master’s degree.

The following year or so, I worked for a company I started, which was basically volunteer work. Now, I was ready to rejoin the working world, find a job, pay my taxes, and enjoy all the trappings that come with that, including, but not limited to, Friday Bars—or so I thought.

That jovial mindset was lost around application number 86.

Devastation started creeping in around application 183. I understand that I am not the most qualified person in the world, but when you don’t get a response from New Balance about selling shoes, doubt takes over.

After living here for three years, I would say I am far less American than the day I stepped off the plane.

That said, one thing I undeniably possess is an American work ethic. I was born and raised on a chicken farm, and I have the work ethic of someone who was born and raised on a chicken farm.

I am college-educated, and I have experience. So why weren’t they calling me?

I’m not your expert on getting a job in Denmark

At this point in the article, you might be hoping for an answer—something you could apply to your own situation.

However, as I mentioned earlier, I am not an expert on culture, work, or Danes. I’m sure there is a “how to get a job in Denmark” expert on LinkedIn, but I am not that person.

I don’t know why they didn’t call me, and I’m sure I don’t know why they aren’t calling you.

I was as close to rock bottom as one can get without actually hitting the rock.

That’s why I turned to LinkedIn. I never really used LinkedIn—not because I didn’t think it was helpful, but because LinkedIn is a place where you take yourself seriously, and that’s something I refuse to do.

821.000 have watched LinkedIn post

Regardless, I sat down and wrote a post to my 103 connections. I thought 30 people might see it, 7 would like it, and my wife would share it. That didn’t happen.

As of writing this, 821,000 people have seen it, 7,337 people have liked it, and 570 people have shared it.

Things like this don’t happen to me, and I can’t give you a template on “how to write a LinkedIn post begging for a job,” but I want to offer what I think is the reason this post resonated with so many people.

For the first time in a long time, I was unapologetically myself. On a platform where one can drown in seriousness, this post hit a nerve.

I believe it struck a chord precisely because it was serious, just not about my qualifications. I needed a job to take care of my son, and that’s what I wrote.

I let go of the façade of being a “successful business owner” and allowed people I didn’t know to see me as I was: insecure, defeated, and jobless.

Send a job offering previously denied

The irony in all of this is that the thousands of people reaching out to me were the ones offering the jobs I had been applying to. In fact, someone sent me a link to a job I had been denied just that morning.

So how is that possible? I think it might just be that the Danes are too Danish.

“It’s hard to get a job as an expat” is as ingrained in Danish culture as “there’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing.”

After writing that post, I had a job four days later. Danes want to hire talented people, and I really don’t think they care if you speak Danish.

The problem is the culture tells them they shouldn’t. It’s almost a rite of passage for someone looking to live here: fall in love with a Dane, pay your 110,000 kr., take your Danish classes, and apply to 200 jobs.

It doesn’t make it right, it’s just Danish.

I’m all for maintaining Danish culture, but in my opinion, there’s nothing more Danish than someone moving here and trying to work.

Be a little less Danish

Speaking Danish doesn’t make someone Danish any more than speaking English makes someone American. Danes are resourceful and resilient, and there is no one who possesses those two qualities more than an expat.

Unfortunately, as sure as the winter days are short, this problem will continue. I can only hope that if you are in the same situation, you keep your head up.

And if you’re a Dane looking to hire someone, be a little less Danish.