It’s been a year since my corporate career was knocked off course. I decided to move out of my journal and share my experience through this reflection as I know many people have been affected by workforce reductions.
I remember that day clearly, as if it were yesterday. I logged into my computer early that morning, as I always did, before heading to the corporate office. What greeted me was an email from HR that basically said all corporate and regional office employees should stay home because workforce changes would be communicated throughout the day.
Morning meetings were scheduled with employees whose roles were being eliminated. Afternoon meetings were scheduled with employees whose roles or reporting relationships were changing. Shortly after 8am I received a meeting notice for a morning meeting with the department head and HR. I knew what that meant, and I also knew the call would be uncomfortable.
It was worse than I imagined. Listening to the department head tell me that my role had been eliminated and that it had nothing to do with my performance was not helpful or comforting. In fact, it was infuriating. I know the language is scripted to legally protect the company during a workforce reduction and to make the employee feel better about being laid off, but it hurt more than it helped. Was the company going through a workforce reduction? Yes. Was the company going out of business? No. And for that reason, the reality is that my role was eliminated because it wasn’t valued in the company anymore and my years of knowledge and experience weren’t needed anywhere else in the company. It’s a hard truth, but that is the truth. That’s what I needed to process beyond corporate speak.
After the department head left the call, HR proceeded to tell me what to expect as a result of the workforce reduction. I left the call feeling numb. It was the third ending of the year. I had said goodbye to close loved ones in March and July and now it was the end of my corporate career. Losing loved ones is not comparable to losing a job. It’s obviously a different type of loss, but nonetheless a loss. It was an abrupt end to something I had nurtured and grew over the course of 40 years and planned to bring to a close in a very different way.
My heart was heavy for many reasons:
✦ Grief from the loss of family members.
✦ My role being devalued and eliminated.
✦ Laid off for the first time in my career.
✦ Recognizing that a late-stage career layoff was likely the end of my corporate career.
✦ Not being able to bring my career to an end on my terms and in a celebratory way.
On a rational level, I knew that losing family members and losing my job was out of my control. Death is a part of life that we’re never truly prepared for and jobs come and go. I’ve worked in corporate long enough to know that downsizing is a continual process. Employees are a means to an end and when you no longer serve a corporation’s end, you have reached your end at that corporation.
On an emotional level, it was heavy and a lot to process. It took time to fully process what happened and how it made me feel. Journaling helped me clarify my thoughts and process my feelings. What surprised me the most was the anger that I felt over the past year. I’ve learned to honor anger as information and explore it through reflective questions like How did I really feel during that call? What feelings surfaced when someone said, “Workforce reductions aren’t personal”, or “You were close to retirement anyway”? I found it helpful to honor what I was feeling. Not to fix it or explain it away. Just to feel it and let it move through.
At the time of the layoff, I was beginning to think about retirement. I have a long history of working. I started working when I was 14. I worked Dairy Queen, Burger King, the local credit bureau, and the Department of the Army before college. I continued working for the Army during the summer and Christmas breaks during college.
My admin skills from my work with the Army paid off and I landed a job in a marketing research department shortly after graduating from college. I joined the organization as an admin with the understanding that I wanted to advance. I had a very supportive supervisor who helped me grow into my next role. Corporate America became my work home for many decades. I worked at six different corporations over the course of my career post college. The only time I wasn’t working directly for a large corporation was when I worked for a small research & strategy firm and when I reached a career crossroads and intentionally paused my corporate career. It was during that pause that Be True to You: A Practical Guide to Pursuing an Authentic Path was written and published.
I later resumed my corporate career while continuing to write and coach others. It turned out to be my last corporate role.
I had an opportunity to review my entire career while working with a coach post layoff. It was good to see it on paper. I felt a sense of pride in a long and meaningful career as well as sadness because the layoff wasn’t just the loss of a job; it was an end to my corporate career.
I don’t expect to return to a corporate role. The reality of a late-stage career layoff is that there are hiring biases and finding comparable work is incredibly challenging.
So where does all of this leave me? Reorienting to this new season of my life.
The past year has been a journey of appreciating what I accomplished over the course of my career, working through heavy feelings, writing, releasing what no longer fits (e.g., clearing closets, cabinets, habits, etc.), tending to things I didn’t prioritize while working, and staying open to what’s next.
I recently held a burning bowl ceremony as a way of formally releasing the heavy feelings I carried over the past year. I wrote my feelings down and safely burned them in a bowl. It was a symbolic way of turning the page with grace, gratitude, and openness to the next phase of my journey.
If you have experienced loss or sudden change, my heart goes out to you. May you honor what you feel and give yourself grace and space to move through it.
You may find my post on navigating the inner work of transition helpful. You can access it here.
Thank you for pausing here.
If this reflection speaks to you, I would love to hear what resonates. If it feels meaningful, you’re welcome to share it with someone who might appreciate it.
Warmly,
Ruthann
Ruthann M. Wilson 