Four years ago I was laid off from my job of nearly 11 years. It wasn’t a surprise; I had made copies of everything I wanted to keep, got an annual physical and dental check-up done, and was read to pack up the day it happened.
But while I believed I was prepared, looking back it’s clear that I was in some deep denial. I thought I was being proactive, but I wasn’t really taking steps in preparation for what came next. I got a decent severance, the standard “we’re moving in a different direction and your position (VP Marketing) is being eliminated” line, and at least I wasn’t escorted out of the building.
Obviously, that was the HR-approved language. No one — especially me — believed they were actually going to eliminate the role of the marketing vice president. Within a couple of months they brought it back — someone younger and more DEI-friendly got the job. Good for her.
No one — especially me — believed they were actually going to eliminate the role of the marketing vice president
The first week I sat around and just took some time off. Played some video games, walked my dog, did some cycling. Then I started to get serious. I contacted a resume writer on LinkedIn and spent $300. Within two months I had thrown that out and did something completely different.
I signed up for all the job search sites — most were free, but a few were subscription and a couple weren’t cheap. After 30+ years, a solid leadership track record, and a broad network, I expected it to take a couple of months. Maybe four.
By Thanksgiving (six months in) I’d gotten about four interviews, spent a couple of thousand dollars on various tools and books, and — following the advice from several recruiters I’d been talking to — made my job search my full-time job. I had sent out 200 resumes, talked to numerous recruiters, and was talking to anyone in my network who would listen.
At the one-year mark I started to get nervous. Covid was in full swing, layoffs were everywhere, and my retirement savings had tanked along with the stock market. Panic and depression became my office-mates, taking turns pummeling me into various emotional states — none of them good.
In July, I got a call from a coach at The Entrepreneur’s Source, asking if I would be interested in exploring options in business ownership. We scheduled some time to talk, and I embarked on a journey of discovery about the possibilities of business ownership.
Panic and depression became my office-mates, taking turns pummeling me into various emotional states — none of them good
Jason Feifer, editor-in-chief of Entrepreneur magazine and author of “Build for Tomorrow,” frequently talks about the four phases of change. The first three are pretty familiar to anyone who has been let go from a job, especially the first time it happens:
– Panic — everything is upside-down
– Adaptation — we learn to work with what we have
– New Normal — we settle into our new routine
These stages may take days or months or longer. And reaching new normal doesn’t mean the problem is solved, it just means you have created a familiar space. Maybe that’s the daily job search routine, or some other coping mechanism. Once you find your next stop, you revert to adaption (or maybe panic if you aren’t getting the results you want).
For those who find success in that quest for what’s next, there is often a fourth stage, as outlined in “Build for Tomorrow.” That fourth stage is “Wouldn’t go Back.” You’re familiar with this concept. People who lost their jobs and a year or two later tell friends that it’s the best thing that ever happened, and while it was tough going, looking back they are grateful for the experience and what they’ve learned.
They’ve overcome the challenges, found a better place, and discovered an inner resilience they didn’t know they had. Four years in, that’s where I am. In that time I transitioned from employed to unemployed (not by choice). After a year and half of looking for that next thing, I started my own business. And now, a little over two years into that, I’ve reached stage four. I wouldn’t go back.
This is more than I wouldn’t go back to my last job. I really wasn’t happy there anyway, so if I’d really been proactive, I would have started searching for that next thing while still employed. But denial isn’t just a river in Egypt.
After a year and half of looking for that next thing, I started my own business
Stage four in my case came at the end of the transition from unemployed to business owner. I spent a year and a half of trying to find something I could fit into. The few interviews I got when one of two ways: if I interviewed with a non-retailer, then my experience was too much retail. If I interviewed with a retailer, then my retail experience wasn’t recent enough. Catch-22 anyone?
Now I am officially unemployable. After a couple of years working for myself, on my terms, and seeing the benefits of my own labor, the thought of taking orders from someone else in exchange for a paycheck no longer has any appeal. I know I can create my own future without being told what to do.
Today I spend my days helping people navigate their new normals, and every once in a while someone reaches stage four. I can’t think of a better way to spend my time, use my experience, and make a difference that matters.