Big Girl Panties Diaries - Entry #7 My Career Ghosted Me. Grief Got Me Through.
So many people are facing job loss right now—and yet no one’s really talking about this part.
Not the résumés. Not the severance. I’m talking about the grief. The shame. The part where you question who you are without a job title. The part where the world keeps spinning—but you kind of want to crawl under a blanket and disappear.
I know that part. Because I lived it.
For years, I was the one helping others through hard transitions—new leaders, reorganizations, layoffs. I led with empathy, tried to treat people with dignity, and always believed in doing the "people side of change" the right way.
But nothing prepares you for when it’s your name on the list.
After 18 years of loyalty, climbing the corporate ladder, and aspiring to be a VP, I was let go. Just like that. No warning. One call, and I was out—effective immediately.
The very next day, I showed up at a professional conference I was already registered for. When someone asked, “Who are you with?” I answered: “Myself.” It wasn’t just awkward. It was identity-shattering.
I lost more than a job. I lost my rhythm. My confidence. My sense of purpose.
And to make it even harder—it happened right before the holidays. The time of year when everything’s supposed to feel warm and joyful? I didn’t want to celebrate. I didn’t want to socialize. I didn’t even want to make small talk. The days were short and gray, and I felt the same way.
The first few days, I was in complete shock. I’d wake up and think, What just happened? And then I’d remember… all over again.
The only thing that brought me back to life—ironically—was hot yoga. Not because I was feeling spiritual or balanced. I was just desperate to feel something other than stuck.
But that mat? That heat? That sweat? It saved me. It gave me a place to fall apart and come back together—one warrior pose at a time.
I had tried yoga years ago and didn’t get it. The pace felt slow, and I didn’t think I was getting a “real” workout. I missed the point entirely. But this time around, I got it. And by "got it" I mean: I cried in Savasana more than once and considered that growth.
Over time, I found my way into poses I never thought I’d be strong enough for—camel, wheel, crow. (Still not friends with headstands or jump-throughs, though. We’re in a “slow-burn situationship.”)
Hot yoga reminded me that strength isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s silent, sweaty, and shaky. And sometimes, showing up on the mat is the win.
I wish I could say I found peace right away. But the truth is, I cried almost every day. Sometimes on the mat. Sometimes off. Not because I wasn’t grateful—but because I was heartbroken.
And the truth is—I fought hard not to cry. I tried to stay strong, to hold it together. But in the end, I had to bite the bullet and feel my feelings in order to heal.
And those feelings? They bled into everything—my family, other relationships, and my frustration around Hailey’s illness. Because the loss of one thing often stirs up all the other losses you haven’t made space for.
I even put a gag order in place during holiday dinners. I just couldn’t talk about it—not without breaking. One family member made a joke about how I must be “loving unemployment,” and I completely flew off the handle. I’m not much of a yeller... but I let it out that night. It wasn’t funny. Not to me. Not then.
There was a silver lining to my time off: I got to be more present for my girls. I had time for Hailey’s appointments. Time to rest. Time to wonder what I wanted to be when I grew up—again.
Eventually, I landed at Upstate Niagara, in a role that fits me better than the one I lost. But even knowing that good things were coming didn’t erase the pain. I still grieved. I still had to rediscover who I was without a job title. And I still had to sit with the surprising realization that, in losing everything I thought defined me, I found more of me.
And as for the people? Some surprised me with their kindness. Others with their silence. Both were clarifying.
Big Girl Panties Rule: You can’t out-yoga, out-work, or out-run grief. You have to move through it.
This isn’t the end. It’s the rewrite.
And if your story is anything like mine, it’ll become more amazing, more aligned, and more you than you ever imagined.
Keep breathing. Keep sweating. My job ghosted me. My inner strength? Loud and clear. (Even if it showed up in leggings, not a dress.)
#BigGirlPantyDiaries #JobLoss #CareerChange #Grief #HotYoga #Healing #AuthenticLeadership #LifeAfterLayoff #ChangeManagement