There’s one part of The Bounce Back Factor that at least one person in every room resonates with. It’s the story about the days after I got laid off. If you’ve seen me speak about job postings, you’ve probably heard the story of losing my job just a few days before I bought a house. I didn’t always feel brave enough to talk about those days and weeks after.
The fear of those days still feels close enough to touch. Once I got past closing and realized I could get my house without a job, I went through all the stages of grief. I would lie awake at night for hours staring at the blank, dark ceiling just thinking. Not of ideas, but all the things I did wrong. What I said. What they said. How I couldn’t let that happen to me again while simultaneously wondering if the harsh feedback they offered was true.
At the time, I was training for a half marathon. Each morning, I’d go for a run in the neighborhood, always trying to save energy for the last part. The last hill to get back to my door was the hardest. It was so steep that sometimes I had to hit the gas harder on my car to get up it. But each morning I’d approach the hill like a sprinter on a track, pausing to take a deep breath at the bottom then running as hard as I could to get up it. I’m sure the neighbors passing in their cars on their way to work thought I was running from something. I think I was, but nothing they could see within the space behind me.
I was running from the disappointment, shame, and anxiety of being laid off. Somehow, I thought all that huffing and puffing would do the trick. Maybe I could exhaust my worry and finally get tired enough to just sleep through the night without wondering if it was my fault. I felt ashamed.
It took years to unwind those beliefs and stop questioning if I was just one click away from getting laid off again. During that time, I wouldn’t take any risks with my career. Instead, I made rules. Rules about how long I should work (forever), how I should give feedback (never), who I should manage (no one), and if I should even go for that promotion (absolutely not). Those rules became roadblocks placed between me and being happy - at work or anywhere else. See, when you live in absolutes? You’re not happy most of the time.
It took moving into a van and rerouting my entire life to see how those rules were keeping me stuck and boy does it feel weird to talk about that in front of 50+ strangers. When I wrote about that process - of running away from the shame and healing from it - I didn’t realize how universal that feeling is. But in every room where I tell my layoff story and talk about The Bounce Back Factor that taught me the tools to navigate change instead of make rules, there’s always a knowing set of eyes looking back at me. A person nodding. Sometimes tears.
Anyone who has been laid off knows how that feeling of failure lingers with you. How we over correct and try to create bumpers to protect ourselves from ever going through a layoff again. Even though it’s not your fault, getting laid off makes people question everything - especially our place in the world. There’s some part of each of us that attaches our worth to work. It doesn’t help that our lives - literally the money we use to eat and pay for healthcare - are all wound up in these things we call jobs. There’s no easy way to let go of the shame.
But shame is an easy way to stay stuck.
A million people were laid off last year and I know some portion of the people reading this are included in that list.
If you have some whisper inside of you from an old boss, a surprising layoff, or anything else that made you question your worth - I’m here to say stop running. Nothing is wrong with you. Not all feedback is equal. You don’t need to figure out why or assign blame. Whether it’s at the bottom of a steep hill or somewhere else entirely, leave the shame behind. Especially the kind of shame that makes you unhappy.
