First, the reframe that actually helps: you're not trying to feel nothing. A nervous system that's completely flat sounds bored, and bored doesn't get hired. The goal is to keep the adrenaline at "alert," not "fleeing a predator." Below is a concrete routine across three time zones — the night before, the hour before, and in the room — so you're following a plan instead of white-knuckling it.
The night before
- Stop cramming by early evening. New facts won't save you, and late cramming raises the baseline anxiety you'll wake up with. Close the laptop.
- Do one out-loud run. Say your "tell me about yourself" and two stories aloud, once. You're not memorising; you're reminding your mouth it can form these words. If that opener still wobbles, tighten it with this walkthrough.
- Lay out the logistics. Clothes, route or meeting link, charged laptop, copy of your CV. Removing tomorrow's small decisions lowers tomorrow's background stress.
- Protect sleep over prep. A rested brain recovers from a blank. A sleep-deprived one spirals.
The hour before
This is where you spend the surplus adrenaline so it isn't all waiting to ambush you in the chair.
- Move. A brisk 10-minute walk burns off the jittery excess so it's not sitting in your hands and voice.
- Slow your exhale. In for four, out for six, a few rounds. A longer exhale is a direct signal to your nervous system that you're safe.
- Warm up your voice. Say a few sentences out loud in the car or another room. A cold voice shakes on the first answer; a warm one doesn't.
- Lower the stakes on purpose. Tell yourself it's a conversation and a data point, not a referendum on your worth. It's also genuinely true — there are other jobs.
In the room — the first two minutes
Most of the fear lives in the opening. Get a plan for the first ninety seconds and the rest tends to follow.
Walk in with a rehearsed opener so your first answer runs on autopilot while your nerves settle. When "tell me about yourself" lands, you're not composing — you're reciting something your mouth already knows. That single easy win resets the whole tone from "I'm terrified" to "I've got this."
Two moves to keep in your pocket for the rest of it:
Pause line: "Let me think about that for a second." Reset line: "Actually, let me answer that more directly — the short version is…"
Both are composed, not weak. "Let me think about that for a second" buys your brain time to come back online. Deliberately slowing your pace keeps your thinking ahead of your talking — nerves accelerate everything, so a slower delivery is a corrective, not a flaw.
Video call vs in person
- On video: look at the camera when you speak, not your own face in the corner — it reads as eye contact and stops you scanning for reassurance. Keep a note of your story titles beside the lens (titles only). Account for a small audio delay so you don't talk over the interviewer or panic in the half-second gap.
- In person: plant your feet, rest your hands loosely on the table, and let a settled body slow your speech. A sip of water is a free, normal-looking way to buy a thinking pause.
One more thing for the ten minutes in the waiting room or the lobby of the video call: resist the urge to cram from your notes. Re-reading facts at that point only raises your heart rate — you're not learning anything new, you're just feeding the nerves. Put the phone away, do a couple of slow exhales, and let your rehearsed opener be the only thing on your mind.
If a wave of panic hits mid-interview
Sometimes it spikes anyway — a question lands wrong and you feel the flush rising. You don't have to hide it or ride it out silently. Reach for a pause and a breath before you answer; a slow exhale is the fastest brake you have. A small physical reset — a sip of water, both feet pressed into the floor — pulls your attention out of the panic and back into the room. Nobody on the other side sees any of this. They just see someone who took a beat before answering, which is exactly what a composed candidate does.
The real fix is upstream
Everything above is damage control, and it works far better the less anxiety you carry in the door. The biggest lever isn't a breathing trick on the day — it's having done the thing enough times that your body stops treating it as novel. Anxiety is highest at first exposure and drops with repetition. That's why people who run a handful of realistic mock interviews walk in calmer: they're simply not on their first rep when it counts. If the nerves are hitting you physically — shaky voice, racing heart — the body-first techniques here are the ones to reach for.
Build your own one-page routine now, while you're calm: three bullets for the night before, three for the hour before, and your two in-the-room lines. Print it or save it to your phone. On the day, you don't want to be improvising a calming strategy while adrenaline is already running — you want to follow a list.
Walk in calmer than your first rep
Run realistic voice mock interviews so the real one isn't your first attempt. Get a scored report and a model answer for every question. Free to start — no credit card.
Start freeFrequently asked questions
How do I calm down right before an interview?
Burn off jittery energy with a brisk walk, slow your exhale (in for four, out for six), warm up your voice by talking out loud, and start with a rehearsed opener so your first answer runs on autopilot while your nerves settle.
Is it normal to have interview anxiety?
Completely. Some adrenaline actually sharpens you. The problem is only when it tips into a flood that hijacks your working memory and makes you blank. The aim is to manage the level, not eliminate it — a totally flat nervous system sounds bored.
What should I do the night before an interview to feel calmer?
Stop cramming by early evening, do one out-loud run of your opener and two stories, lay out clothes and logistics so tomorrow has fewer decisions, and prioritise sleep over extra prep. A rested brain recovers from a blank; a tired one spirals.