When I was laid off, I think what hurt me the most is that I wasn’t prepared for the ending - financially or emotionally. It left me questioning everything and wondering if I actually did anything right. I imagine those labels that tell you “objects in mirror are closer than they appear.” That’s how the endings felt: closer than I expected and always too close for comfort. 

I spent my whole life preparing, planning, and creating a career road map only to feel like it blew up in my face. It took me years to realize it wasn’t my fault and call it what it is: trauma. Trauma is the only way to describe what happens when you wake up one day and a lot of the things you rely on for survival disappear. It permanently changes us. The safety humans need to thrive, especially at work, is gone.

It only took one time getting laid off to make me believe I was going to get fired or laid off every single time I got called into my manager’s office. One hard conversation to make me think I was doing everything wrong. It transformed the way my brain understood feedback. Constructive feedback went from a tool for growth to a weapon of destruction.  

I used to hide my trauma in the busyness of corporate America, but the intimacy of building a business didn’t allow my fears anonymity. I had to say out loud “I can’t do this today” or “I’m scared” a lot more than I ever had. 

0 Days Since Last Fuck Up 

I never planned to be leading a company - yet another unexpected ending. Unfortunately, the role didn’t come with an instant confidence boost or any transformation. I was surprised that almost every person I hired also had their own layoff lessons, these rules they wrote to help them survive corporate America after their own unexpected endings. 

Broadly, I believe every person carries a story about failure and few of those stories give us the energy we need to try new things without fear. This fear is born in classrooms where children are mocked for going outside of the box, ingrained as we focus on memorization instead of innovation in early employment opportunities, and nurtured as we base success on perfection. 

The idea that there’s no room for failure was born in corporate culture and is alive and well today. But going into the next chapter of uncertainty - from technological innovation to political shifts, we have to make room for failure if we want innovation. We can’t plan what we don’t know. 

There are people on your team - maybe you included - that are questioning their contribution every day. Wondering if it’ll ever be enough. How we model failure isn’t just going to make room for them to thrive. It heals all of us. But how? Do you put up a poster that says “0 days since last fuck up?” 

I did. 

I’ll never be good at feeling like things ended well when they ended without my permission. I don’t expect anyone to be. But here’s what I do know in reflecting on those endings: failure can’t hold that much power - at work or anywhere else. 

As much as the sign reminds me not to take myself so seriously, it is a constant reminder that mistakes aren’t going to end my world. Holding myself accountable to perfection just makes doing the work feel like a lose-lose game. It is a reminder that I’m not a failure when I fail. 

This is a preview from my new book on leadership coming this fall. Sign up to be notified when pre-sale begins.