The other week, I applied for what looked like a great opportunity: a remote Digital Marketing Specialist role with a not-for-profit organization in the NDIS sector. I felt confident—I’ve worked in marketing for years and have plenty of experience in this space.
But the moment the interview started, things felt… off.
Instead of asking about my campaigns, results, or skills, the interviewer brushed all that aside and said, “I think all CVs are just bull***. Tell me about you—are you married? Do you have kids?”*
Now, I don’t know about you, but that instantly raised a red flag for me. Professional employers don’t ask those questions. Still, I gave a polite answer, starting with my career background and then a little about myself personally.
That’s when the conversation took a strange turn.
He began talking about how the company was an international business with over 30 years of success, and how some of his colleagues had achieved “work-life balance” and even seven-figure incomes. I asked what a typical workday looked like. Instead of giving me a straightforward answer, he told me he’d send me a two-hour video that would explain everything.
He said that hundreds of people work for this company, so asked why I could only find one person’s profile listed on their supposed website. His response? “That’s not our website. Watch the video first.”
So, I did.
I didn’t even get through the whole thing before the truth was obvious: this wasn’t a job at all. It was a pitch. To “join” the business, I’d need to pay between $3,000 and $10,000 upfront, cover all my own advertising costs, and promote a so-called “personal development” business (not NFP or NDIS). And the way to make money? Recruit more people like me.
In other words, it wasn’t digital marketing—it was more like multi-level marketing (MLM), and edging dangerously close to a pyramid scheme.
Here’s the thing: a real job pays you for your skills and contributions. It doesn’t ask you to pay thousands upfront, hide its website, or promise vague dreams of seven-figure incomes if you recruit enough people.
Looking back, I’m glad I trusted my instincts. The red flags were all there: unprofessional questions, lack of transparency, the big money promises. It was never about hiring a marketing specialist—it was about finding the next person to buy into their system.
So if you’re job hunting and find yourself in an interview that suddenly feels more like a sales pitch, take it from me—pause, dig deeper, and don’t be afraid to walk away.
Because at the end of the day, if it feels too good to be true, it probably is.
LYVIX 