Big Girl Panties Diaries – Entry #111: When Someone Loses Their Job — Don’t Make It Weird

A guide for showing up with empathy (and without the awkward)

If you’ve followed the last few chapters, you know it’s been a season. In less than a year, I lost two jobs. I’ve written about the grief, the yoga mats, the rebuild — all of it.

This entry isn’t about résumés or recruiters. It’s about what comes next — the quiet part after the news breaks, when your inbox goes silent and people don’t quite know what to say.

Some rally. Some retreat. And some start treating you like you’ve come down with a contagious disease — like job loss might be catching.

It’s awkward, but it’s not cruelty. It’s confusion. Most people genuinely don’t know how to act when someone’s world shifts overnight.

Because here’s the truth no one tells you: Career grief is real — and it looks different for everyone.

1. Understand the Grief Before You Offer the Fix

When you lose a job, you don’t just lose a paycheck. You lose rhythm. Identity. Belonging.

Some people go numb. Others cry through it. And some — like me — find themselves in a hot yoga studio, sobbing quietly through Savasana and calling it growth.

Career grief doesn’t follow tidy stages. It loops. One day you feel hopeful; the next, you’re back in disbelief. Everyone’s timeline is different, and there’s no “right” way to process it — only your way.

The kindest thing you can do? Meet people where they are. Not where you think they should be.

2. Presence Beats Platitudes

When someone loses a job, resist the urge to cheer them up. “Everything happens for a reason.” “You’ll land on your feet.” “You’ll find something better.”

Those lines sound comforting, but they skip the humanity.

Instead, say something simple and real:

“I can’t imagine how that feels. I just want you to know I’m here.”

Then actually be there. Check in a week later. Or a month later. Presence matters more than pep talks.

Because the awkward silence isn’t rejection — it’s a lack of reps. We’ve been taught to celebrate wins, not sit with loss. But if you can stay in the quiet with someone long enough, that’s where connection starts.

What Not to Say

(A field guide to well-intentioned awkwardness)

If you’ve said one of these before, you’re not a monster — just human. But here’s how they land on the receiving end:

• 🚫Don't Say - “Everything happens for a reason.”

• ✅Do Say - “This really sucks. I’m so sorry you’re going through it.

• 🚫Don't Say -"You’ll land on your feet.”

• ✅Do Say -“You don’t have to have it all figured out right now. One step at a time is enough.”

• 🚫Don't Say -“You’ll find something even better!”

• ✅Do Say -“I know this isn’t what you wanted right now. How can I support you?”

• 🚫Don't Say -“At least you have time to relax.”

• ✅Do Say -“Transitions can be exhausting. How are you taking care of yourself?”

• 🚫Don't Say -“You’re so talented—someone will scoop you up in no time.”

• ✅Do Say -“You’re incredibly talented, and I believe in you—but I also know this is hard. I’m here for the real part too.”

• 🚫Don't Say -“Now you can finally focus on what you really want to do.”

• ✅Do Say -“When you’re ready, I’d love to help brainstorm what’s next—but only when you want to.”

Compassion lands better than correction. Don’t try to fix their story. Just be part of it.

3. Offer Something Real (Not “Let Me Know If I Can Help”)

“I’m here if you need anything” sounds nice — but it puts the emotional labor back on the person who’s already drained.

Offer something tangible instead:

• “Want me to proof your résumé or LinkedIn update?”

• “Would you like me to write a recommendation?”

• “Can I introduce you to someone in my network?”

• “Want to walk and vent this week?”

• “Need to rehearse your interview story with a friendly audience?”

Even one small offer can remind someone they’re not navigating the free fall alone.

Rule of thumb: Replace vague kindness with concrete kindness.

4. Redefine What Support Looks Like — Especially if You Lead Others

If you’re a leader, the way you handle someone’s exit sends a message to everyone still on your team. Compassion in hard moments builds more trust than any all-hands pep talk ever will.

Empathy isn’t soft. It’s strategic.

And if you’re a friend, remember this: They don’t need a fixer. They need a witness.

Check in. Send the text. Extend the hand. Remind them who they are when the title falls away.

For me, I’ve genuinely appreciated the power of community — the people who took time out of their busy lives to listen, connect, and offer help. It reminded me that the world still holds more kindness than judgment.

If this is happening to you, I see you. You don’t have to rush your healing, your clarity, or your comeback. I’m here — sitting beside you, not above you — reminding you that you’re not alone in this.

That’s how we help people rise again — with humanity, not hashtags.

The truth is, job loss doesn’t define you — it refines you. You don’t come out weaker. You come out clearer. And sometimes the people who show up quietly in that space are the reason you rise again.

Big Girl Panties Rule: When someone’s world tilts, steady them with empathy, not platitudes. Your calmfidence might be the bridge they need to restart.