Big Girl Panties Diaries – Entry #118: When You’re the Survivor — Don’t Lose Your Humanity
I’ll never forget the first time I went through a layoff — and survived it. Not because I was relieved, but because I was wrecked.
Back then, reorganizations weren’t the revolving doors they’ve become. When they happened, they were big, loud, and deeply personal. You remember the faces. The boxes. The silence.
The air that day felt heavy — part grief, part guilt. We tried to act normal, but you could feel the hum of uncertainty in every hallway conversation, every Slack message, every coffee refill.
It’s hard either way — whether someone is escorted out without grabbing their kid’s photo off their desk, or given a few weeks to “look internally.” Both sting. Both leave a mark.
I wrote earlier this year about what happens when someone loses their job — how awkwardly we tend to handle it, and how much humanity matters in those quiet, in-between moments. But what I didn’t talk about then were the ones left behind. The ones who stay. The ones who watch it happen — sometimes over and over — and have to keep working as if nothing changed. Because layoffs don’t just create job loss. They create trust loss.
The Weight of Survival
If you’ve ever been the “survivor,” you know it’s a strange kind of limbo. You’re grateful to still have a paycheck — and guilty for feeling relieved. You’re supposed to be “lucky” — but mostly, you’re just exhausted.
Everyone tells you to stay positive, to be grateful, to keep things moving. But inside, you’re grieving, too — for the people, the culture, the sense of safety that used to exist.
You start carrying invisible weight — the extra work, the awkward goodbyes, the pressure to smile when morale is cracked. And no one sends you a sympathy card.
Survivor’s guilt is real. And so is the quiet anxiety that follows — the one that whispers, “Am I next?”
How to Stay Human When You’re the Survivor
💛 Acknowledge the grief. Yes — you can grieve people who are “just coworkers.” You can miss their energy, their ideas, their presence. You can feel the loss even if you didn’t lose your job.
💛 Release the guilt. You didn’t cause this. You didn’t choose who stayed or who left. Survival doesn’t make you selfish — it makes you human.
💛 Reconnect with purpose. Find one small reason each day that your work still matters — to you, to your team, to the people you serve. Purpose is how you rebuild safety when everything else feels uncertain.
💛 Protect your peace. Boundaries aren’t disloyal — they’re essential. You can’t pour from an empty cup, especially when the emotional tone of your workplace has shifted.
💛 Reach out — even if it feels awkward. You don’t need perfect words. Just presence. Check on the colleague who left and the one still sitting beside you. It helps you both heal.
From the Change Side
Over the years, I’ve managed more of these reorganizations than I can count — designing communication plans, supporting leaders through exits, and helping teams rebuild.
And I’ve learned this: There are some changes you can co-create, and some you simply catch and receive.
When you’re in a catch-and-receive moment, all you can do is lead — and live — with humanity. Even if you’re not the one making the decisions, you still have power in how you treat people, and in how you treat yourself.
The Quiet Truth
Years later, I’ve sat on both sides — the one getting the call, and the one keeping her job. Neither is easy. Both change you.
Because layoffs don’t just remove people. They rearrange the emotional DNA of an organization. And the people who survive? They’re the ones trying to find their footing in the aftershock.
So if you’re one of them — give yourself grace. You’re not weak for feeling wobbly. You’re not ungrateful for missing what was. You’re just human — doing your best to stay kind, steady, and whole when everything feels uncertain.
🩲 BGPD Rule: Survival isn’t just staying. It’s choosing to stay human — even when the world around you forgets how.