I'm a tech worker whose job offer got rescinded. Looking back, I might have overlooked some red flags about the company.

• Amid an uncertain economy, some job seekers in tech have had their offers of employment rescinded.
• One of them shared his experience with Insider's Rebecca Knight.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with a worker who had his job offer rescinded this year. He spoke on condition of anonymity to protect his career. Insider has verified his identity and the offer he received.

Five rounds of interviews, a standardized assessment, and a month of my life I'll never get back: I got the job, but six days before I was supposed to start, the company rescinded my offer.

I'd never had an offer rescinded, even though it's apparently happening more and more because of the state of the economy — especially in the technology industry.

Looking back on the experience, I realize there were some red flags that maybe I'd missed or overlooked. Little things felt off during some of my interviews, and I wish I'd listened to my gut.

After a layoff, a 'promising' job lead

I got let go from my last job in tech right before Thanksgiving. I'd been recruited there and worked at the company for just shy of a year. I had an inkling cuts were coming: Revenue goals weren't being met, executives had left, and there was more talk from leadership about economic uncertainty.

The timing wasn't great. I knew that few companies would be hiring until the new year.

In early January, I got a promising message on LinkedIn from a recruiter at a software company about a remote sales role. I'd heard of the company — it had been around for about 30 years and was on solid ground. We set up a time to talk on the phone.

The conversation went well. I could tell that the job meant more money and more responsibilities than my last role. I wanted it.

But the recruiter did have one concern: She implied that I was a job hopper because I didn't stay with any employer for more than two years. I told her I always had valid reasons for moving on, that I liked new challenges, and that I was constantly looking for ways to better myself. She seemed to understand.

Not long after that, I got my first real interview.

That one didn't go as well. Like the recruiter, he asked questions about why I'd moved around a lot in my career. Look, on dating sites, I'm honest that I'm 5-foot-7. If a date agreed to go out with me but then complained, "I don't like short guys," I'd think, "Why are we even here?"

Needless to say, I was surprised when the recruiter wanted me to take a standardized assessment. I did well enough that they wanted to talk to me again.

More rounds of interviews — but nagging questions, too

Next I did a Zoom with a few members of the team that I would ostensibly be working on. They talked about projects in a way that made me feel like I was already part of the team. Soon after, I had a Zoom call with the vice president of sales, who'd be my boss. He seemed like a decent guy, and I could picture myself working for him.

But the interviews were confusing. The more I learned about the role, the more I questioned whether I was a fit. The company was seeking an account manager, and while I could do the job, it wasn't a match with my experience. Were they unable to find anyone else?

I was getting my hopes up, but I also had misgivings. If I'd had other leads at that time, I would have called it off. At that point, though, it felt like tech companies were doing mass layoffs every other day. And while recruiters were reaching out to me, I was also getting ghosted a lot. I needed the job.

My fifth and final interview was with the company's new chief revenue officer. He had a cold, so he was off camera, but I rolled with it and the call went fine. But I did realize in that conversation that the job I was interviewing for was posted before the interviewer's start date. That was not a good sign: There's often a shift in strategy when a new chief revenue officer enters the picture.

An ominous email

The next day, I was excited to get a verbal offer with a start date in early February. The contract arrived in my inbox a few days later. That week, I went back and forth with human resources about the kind of laptop I wanted and other logistics.

Six days before my start date, though, I got an ominous email from the recruiter asking whether I had time for a quick chat. She was formal when we spoke.

"We regret to inform you that we are not going to move forward with this role," she said, adding something about how they'd changed their minds because of ongoing business needs.

I was in shock, and I wanted to know what happened. I was also annoyed that I heard the news from HR. Frankly, the person who would have been my manager should have made the call. I think it would have been a decent thing to do.

So I reached out myself. I was diplomatic and explained that I was looking for clarification. I said something like, "I wonder if you could offer some context that could help me understand why the offer was rescinded. Did I do something wrong that led you to believe that I wasn't a fit? I'd hate for that to happen again."

He wrote back that it wasn't personal. "I know this is frustrating," he said.

That was a massive understatement. I was angry.

I took a day to sulk, and now that some time has passed, I'm over it. I'm lucky to be staying with my family right now — I'm so glad I don't have kids or a mortgage. I've got some new interviews lined up at a few companies, so I hope to get a new job soon.

I hope I'm someday able to look back on this experience as a blessing in disguise.