Job loss is something that’s very much unique to the individual at the epicentre of the quake— it can be freeing or devastating, life-affirming or life-ending. And so there is danger in prescribing advice or making assumptions about it, even when well-intentioned. The only way out is through, and though I’m still digging my exit path towards the light, a fistful of dirt at a time, I can share what I’ve learned so far and intend to carry with me.
In October 2020, I was made redundant from a career I’d given 11 years to, adding to the countless others who also found themselves jobless in the most strange and unpredictable of times. There are a lot of unemployment stats flying around, but I found little in the way of the real experiences of the people behind the numbers. It’s very easy lose sight of the wood for the trees during a time like this, so I wanted to record some of my learnings so that I can remind myself of them whenever the forest tries to swallow me up again.
- Beware of defining yourself by your job title. I say this as someone who always thought it was a strange and tragic thing to do, only to realise my subconscious had been slowly indoctrinating me into doing it anyway.
But hey, we live in a world where the first thing a stranger asks is “What do you do?” so I can’t take all the blame. Having some time to be nothing but me has been weird and wonderful, and a bit like being a wide-eyed 16-year-old again. Just with added financial insecurity and forehead wrinkles. - Shut out the noise. Any time something huge erupts in your life, you will undoubtedly by surrounded by noise. If you’re trying to make an important decision, or dealing with the fallout from a traumatic event, everyone will have an opinion. It’s vital that you ground your own two feet as solidly as possible and look within, so that all reactions and responses are your own. It doesn’t mean you’ll get everything right, but at least your mistakes will be your own too. I also had to stop following the news because every headline was screaming that the entire world was going to be unemployed and there would never be enough jobs again. It cornered me into a dark back alley of my mind, and contributed to me rushing into something that wasn’t right for me… but more on that later.
- Losing control can be a good thing. For me, this was the hardest part of being made redundant. I’ve always been in control of my career, and got out of it what I put in. All of a sudden, that meant nothing. I’m one of those annoying ‘everything happens for a reason’ people, but you can believe that and still be knocked sideways. Having an iron-glad grip on everything that happens to you in life isn’t healthy or realistic — learning that the hard way is worth it in the end. Being tossed by the waves doesn’t mean you have to sink.
- Allow yourself to explore things without a promise of permanence. One of the 473 things I’ve learned about myself in the last few months is that I’m a black-and-white, all-or-nothing thinker. In terms of my new-found unemployment, it manifested itself in a ridiculous quest to find the single-most perfect new career to pursue with everything I had. I wanted to help others, change the world, be self-employed, be ready to launch within 6 months…the list went on. I kept telling people I was taking my time and exploring my options, but I wasn’t. I had my foot to the floor, and I was ignoring my inner sat-nav. It resulted in me getting the first job I applied for, in a field completely alien to everything I’d done before. Did I find my ultimate calling? Of course I didn’t. I left after two days, broken and feeling like a failure. But once I’d scraped myself off the floor, I was glad I’d tried it. I also did a 6-week course in the same realm, loved it, and met some great women through it. Without the hands-on experience from the job, I may well have ploughed on with the course and realised it wasn’t the right path to be following much later on. You have to try things, and you have to be OK with them not working out.
- Trust the process. Ride the wave. There isn’t a lot of point in ignoring the multiple and varied emotions you’ll experience during job loss (or any other big change, really). The more you bury or fight them, the longer you’ll have to spend getting over it all. You will have no control over them, and they’ll change quicker than the weather. Seething, raging anger, total denial, grief that turns to relief, and sometimes even a weird euphoria. In the space of a morning, I could go from bouncy optimism to sudden blackout-darkness. It’s all temporary and they’re all just feelings.
- People will surprise you, in good ways and bad. You’ll find out very quickly who’s in your life for the long-haul, who really knows the bones of you, and who hangs around for the drama before going quiet. Pretty much all the relationships I already valued in my life deepened, and I was also buoyed by the kind words of others I hadn’t anticipated. People will say really fucking stupid things too. Like my new neighbour, whose way of trying to sniff out if I had a job yet was by asking if I was still a ‘lady of leisure’ over the garden fence.
- Trust your gut and maintain integrity. Such an easy sentence to write, yet I don’t think I’ve ever had to consciously work so hard to do both. Especially in the first few days after being let go, it was a real test of my inner strength not to absolutely lose it over the way I was treated. But I didn’t. And when that feeling subsides, and you suddenly don’t care anymore, you will be so glad. In any job, you are disposable — and so is everyone else. If you work hard and maintain integrity, you can’t go far wrong. That doesn’t mean you’ll never find yourself being made redundant, or leaving of your own accord because you’re miserable, but it ensures you’ll have no regrets. Integrity carries its own personal definition, and for me it means staying true to oneself and standing up for others as best you can. That isn’t always easy when you’re tangled up in hierarchies and politics, but there is always a way to support people when they need it most.
