I never wanted this particular expertise, but surviving two layoffs in two years has taught me a few things. Here’s my road map for the 7 phases of unemployment:
1. The Drop. Losing your job can feel like unexpected skydiving. One minute, you’re soaring in your career – or perhaps you’re cruising along on autopilot. Suddenly, you’re in the air and the only thing you know for certain is that you’re no longer on the plane that’s now flying ahead without you. If this sounds familiar, I wrote about it two years ago. My second Drop was less scary but still intense; I recognized the feeling of hurtling toward the earth, startled by the wind of unexpected freedom, hoping my parachute would open in time for a safe landing.
Advice for this phase: Don’t make any major decisions until you’ve had a few days to process the news. Resist the urge to rage-post on social media, burn bridges with your employer, or immediately apply for a job at the bar where you’re drowning your post-layoff sorrows.
2. The Scramble. Transitioning out of a job brings a host of important, unfamiliar small tasks with big consequences. Hand off projects, get personal files off your work computer, review your severance agreement, file for unemployment, update your résumé and LinkedIn. Tell your family, recalibrate your budget, cancel expensive subscriptions, squeeze in doctor’s appointments while you still have decent insurance. The Scramble can last a few days to a few weeks. It’s stressful, but there’s comfort in being busy.
Advice for this phase: Make a to-do list and prioritize tasks that involve your soon-to-be-former employer. Talking to HR, collecting work examples for your professional portfolio, and updating your résumé with detailed accomplishments are much easier when you still have access to your company’s systems.
3. FUNemployment! A few weeks after my layoff, I was driving in my Prius, blasting Florence & the Machine, when suddenly I felt like the protagonist in the song: “Happiness hit her like a train on a track.” I was free! I could change industries! I could start a business! I could write a novel! I could reinvent myself! I dyed my hair bright pink and started wearing rock concert t-shirts on weekdays. A Cambrian explosion of project ideas engulfed my imagination. When friends asked how I was doing, I responded with sincere ebullience: Fabulous! Elated! Excited! Delighted! Returning to the skydiving metaphor, this is the moment when you set aside the fear, open your eyes, and take in the breathtaking views of the world spread out before you.
Advice for this phase: If you have adequate severance, savings, and social support to do so, enjoy your FUNemployment! Follow the sparks of your curiosity and see which ones ignite into full-blown flames. Go to webinars and networking events. Talk to the most interesting people you know. Say yes to invitations. Lean into your hobbies. Play music loudly. Wear whatever you want. Embrace the joy of setting down all the things that frustrated you, stressed you out, or held you back in your previous job.
4. The Quiet. Like pink hair, FUNemployment! fades into muted tones. Nobody can live at that pace forever. You might find yourself inside your house at 9 a.m. on a Tuesday. Your Google calendar is blank. No texts or notifications. You notice things like the slant of light through your window. Birds. Elderly neighbors out for walks. This is when your healing begins.
Advice for this phase: If you are fortunate enough to sit in the Quiet for a few weeks, it will enrich you. In my Quiet phase, I read books. I listened to podcasts about personal and professional growth. I wrote in my journal. I reflected on what I want from the next chapter of my career. I realized I don’t actually want to start a business or be a full-time freelance writer. I am at my best when I’m part of a team, collaborating on creative work. That realization brought me to the gates of the next phase…
5. The Job Search Carnival. Applying for jobs is like visiting a chaotic carnival with rides of varying quality. Buckle up and proceed at your own risk. Most rides are disappointing; they appear functional but don’t go anywhere. Others spin you around a few times and leave you with mild regret and a twinge of nausea. The best ones will shoot you to dizzying heights and zip you through an adventure. As you swerve through the heart-pounding twists and turns of interviews, you imagine your career unfolding at this exciting new company. Hello, potential new boss! Hello, potential new coworkers! Often the ride jerks to a stop and you’re in limbo, waiting, on the precipice of something for days or even weeks. Is the ride over? Did the recruiter ghost you? Is your email broken? Maybe you should hit “refresh” one more time. Just when you’re ready to abandon hope, you get swept up on another loop.
Advice for this phase: Job searching is a job. Optimize your workspace, plan your schedule, and equip yourself with tools and resources for success. I can write a separate article full of tips for navigating the carnival (Would anyone appreciate that? Let me know in the comments) but for now I’ll reassure you that yes, this is madness. You’ll get rejected from jobs you’re well qualified for. You’ll get calls from places that surprise you. You’ll feel overwhelmed and frustrated and exhausted. Hang in there. Cast a wide net. Be patient and persistent. Take care of yourself. Ask for and accept help.
6. The Pit of Despair. This is a dark place. You’re worn down from repeated rejections. You miss your coworkers. You’re running out of money. You’re starved for human interaction but dread seeing the next person who will ask, “Have you found a job yet?” You decide that the Job Search Carnival is full of hucksters and rigged, unwinnable games. You find it hard to get out of bed when your day has no agenda or purpose. In the Pit, there is no joy or light. You feel useless, ashamed, frustrated, scared. As someone whose career was deeply entwined with my identity and self-worth, I know the terrain of the Pit well.
Advice for this phase: Reach for people. There are people who will sit in the Pit beside you and join you for a drink, a walk, or a good cry. There are people who will lift you up or help you build a ladder. There are professionals (e.g., therapists) who help people out of Pits for a living. Recognize that you’re in the Pit, it’s not your fault, and you’re not alone.
7. The Garden of Fortitude. I was deep in the Pit of Despair when someone tossed me this ladder: My value is not determined by a paycheck. Meaningful work is not determined by my employer. I can choose to fill my days with meaningful, productive work – and I get to define those terms. This is the phase I’m in right now. I spend a lot of time at the Job Search Carnival, but I don’t live there. I start each weekday with a fitness class. I schedule at least one networking or educational event each week, usually a few. I volunteer in my community. I’m helping plan my college reunion. I reach out to friends not just to ask for help, but to offer it. I feed the birds in my backyard. I planted a literal garden. This feels different than the frenetic energy of FUNemployment! or the introspective focus of the Quiet. In the Garden of Fortitude, you not only cultivate your own resilience, you find ways to add value to the world regardless of your employment status. I’m writing this article because I believe that my words might help someone else make sense of the traumatic, destabilizing experience of job loss.
Advice for this phase: Your value is not determined by your paycheck. Meaningful work is not determined by your employer. You will find another job, but more importantly you will discover that you are so much more than your employment status.