Grief and Layoffs
Navigating a season of unexpected and unwelcome change.
Any way you cut it, layoffs are messy, hard, inconvenient, and for some reason, veiled in shame. I’m trying to change that one vulnerable post about layoffs at a time.
Layoffs
My Linkedin feed over the last week has been saturated by people announcing that their roles have been impacted by a layoff. When I got laid off in 2023 with a 40 day old baby in my arms, I started writing to process my feelings in thick of my postpartum but I never publicly shared anything. They were more like journal entries, documenting my frustration and disbelief that I was somehow in the middle of a job hunt while learning about wake windows and burping techniques.
During this really precious window of time, the only thing I’d hoped to worry about was my daughter. I truly felt like I had set myself and my career up for success, following all of the how-to go on maternity leave guides, checking each and every requirement off the list. I had a documented list of my work and people assigned to fill in, I spent 6 months of my pregnancy meeting with executives across the organization (including the CEO), pitching my skillset and reiterating my aim to stay at the organization, I had projects lined up for me when I returned, and I checked in with someone on my leadership team every other week once I began my leave. I felt secure.
But the truth is, nothing is secure when you’re a budget line. And a layoff is a reminder of that brutal fact.
When I entered a job hunt 4 months postpartum, I often had people ask me the same question:
Dear Rosie,
How do you position your layoff without seeming too critical of your prior employer?
A Layoff is a Breakup
My usual rhythm to respond to a breakup is to write an album or a musical. I started chipping away at some themes and song lyrics but something about the fact that corporate doesn’t rhyme with anything kept tripping me up.*
I believe one of the biggest hurdles while job hunting after a layoff is you still have to talk about your ex with respect, love, light, and gratitude.
This is a bonkers approach, but its the one we’ve been trained to take. And in most cases, this is the approach that your future employer is hoping to hear.
That doesn’t mean you can’t be mad about your layoff. You get to feel whatever and however you feel about it, because it’s maddening. Before you can stomach reciting a believable sentence about the company that laid you off without a shiver going down your spine, you need to acknowledge your hurt and frustration and release, even a little bit of your anger.
The punchline is this:
You’re grieving. And it might take some time for you to heal.
Here are some honest ideas, based on the stage of grief you’re in:
Cry about it.
Sit in your car with a bag of chips while you cry and belt this song.
Break something.
A plant from your old boss, a frame picture from a company outing, or cut up a t-shirt with your company’s logo. You can smash it.
Find an hour of reflection.
First 20 Minutes: Grab a few pieces of loose paper and write out everything you’re frustrated about regarding your layoff - maybe it was the way you were told, the way your boss handled the situation, the timing, the long hours you worked and never felt appreciated for. Write it all down, unfiltered. Be specific, use people’s names, call out your frustrations with all of it.
Next 20 Minutes: After the one hour is up, do some movement - go for a walk, do some yoga, lift some weights.
Final 20 Minutes: Come back to your list. Reread it, cry if you need to, then rip it up (or have a bonfire with some friends to burn it) and throw it away. You can release it.
Toast to the good/bad/ugly/in-between.
Get together with former coworkers and revel in the shock that you (YOU) were laid off. It feels good to know that other people were also surprised. It’s weird to type that, but we all know it’s true. Catch up on the company drama, use a few expletives, and if that feels good, do it a few more times with a few more people. There will come a point when that feels off or you don’t care to know what’s happening with “That big project due in June that no one has capacity for” and when that happens, stop. You can move on.
I did all of the things above and it felt really good. It also felt really sad and I felt an incredible amount of grief moving through the motions. I resent the fact that people touted my layoff as “the best thing for me” because I would never choose to have the sacred space that is newborn snuggles ruptured by a layoff.
So if you’re in the thick of a layoff, I’m thinking of you. I hope you can find time to grieve and to find small moments of joy during this unexpected time.
Rooting for you!
P.S. If you’re in the mix of a layoff and needs some trips/tricks/support as you navigate this chapter, I talk a lot about layoffs on Linkedin. I’d love to connect. And if you’re navigating a layoff while pregnant/postpartum, I’d love to connect to you to The Labor Club. I joined this group as they were just forming and it has grown into an incredible resource and connect space for parents navigating this time of uncertainty.
*Okay, corporate and portrait was an option but it wasn’t landing well in a lyrical sense.