After the Door Closes
Layoffs, friendship, and stepping into what comes next
When the email arrived about a retirement celebration for a colleague at my former workplace, I thought I’d contribute to the memory book and leave it at that.
The person retiring is someone who means a lot to me. We share a love of literature and travel, and we share our introversion. At work functions, we always found each other, made an introverts’ island where we pumped up our energy before going back into the fray. We both love to laugh, and I admire his wit, cuttingly sharp at times. I admire his calm in a crisis and his empathy. He always has time for you—even if he doesn’t, he makes you feel like he does.
I’d spent 17 years at the former workplace, overlapping with about half of this person’s career. The former workplace that laid me off in December.
I’ve landed on my feet. I’m lucky, because it didn’t even take very long. Within a couple of months, another former colleague recruited me for a great position at Brandeis University, and I’m loving it. I’m doing work I enjoy, where I have experience, work that I’m good at, and my work is appreciated. I’m part of a team of great people in a great environment, at an impressive institution doing important work in the world.
Like I said: Lucky.
But also, maybe not. Luck has something to do with it, but so does hard work and experience and the reputation I’ve built over all those years. Partnerships and friendships and solid working relationships and collaborations led to my current position. I’m grateful—to all those people and also that I had the presence of mind to work hard and smart. To value relationships with my colleagues. To build bridges instead of burn them.
I learn something from every job, every role, every work experience. With all the lessons packed into the lay-off experience, I wish it came with a certificate at the end or some kind of credential. Some of the lessons have been really hard—How to Survive Humiliation 101, Losing Your Self-Esteem and How to Find It Again, Storage Solutions: Where to Stuff Your Anger.
But some lessons have been easy, even joyful. Over and over, I am overwhelmed by the community that surrounds me. The team I worked with—my team and some members from other teams—is now a circle of friends. We communicate regularly by text. We have an informal book club—our last read was Finding Me by Viola Davis (highly recommend) and our next is It’s a Love Story by Annabel Monaghan. We support each other in the challenges presented by life and work, and celebrate with each other.
Driving home from our recent informal book club gathering, I thought, “I don’t think I’ve ever had this many friends in my life!”
A few weeks ago, as I thought about these friends and others at the former workplace, the more I thought—why shouldn’t I go to my colleague’s retirement celebration? Those of us who’d been laid off weren’t barred from the place or anything remotely like that. In fact, we were invited to apply for other job openings, if so inclined. I decided—this colleague is important to me, and I wasn’t going to let anyone else dictate my actions.
I shared the celebration information with others who’d been laid off. One of them asked if I was going. I told her yes—because of our colleague, and also because I wanted to show up for myself. To walk in with my head high, to have others see me and welcome me with warm embraces. And to have others just see me, see that I am fine, I am not afraid. In fact, I am better than I was before. She decided to go, too, if we could walk in together.
And that’s exactly what happened. As soon as we stepped in the door, we were mobbed with hugs and how-are-you’s and we-miss-you’s. We saw our retiring colleague, who was happy we came. We avoided the people we wanted to avoid and caught up with the people we wanted to catch up with. It felt like a reunion, with many past employees there to wish our friend well as he enters this new phase of his life. We were all so grateful and happy for him.
At one point, I texted my husband, “I have many friends here.”
He texted me back a gif of Polly and the women from Peaky Blinders strutting down the street in Birmingham. If you don’t know the show, it’s enough to say Polly is not a woman you mess with. The image says it all—women in a moment of their power. Women you do not want to cross.
That’s what it felt like. Not closure. I don’t need that place to give me that. It’s the other way around. I give myself closure.
More like stepping back into my power.
Here’s to stepping forward into what comes next,
Judy
Well-said, Judy - so well-said. I was not able to make it P.C.'s event - I let him know that I was not able to - and he sincerely understood. I wanted to go, but my home responsibilities took precedence. My freindship with P.C. runs deeper than any event can reflect - we spent 29 years together - building mutal respect and growing through many shared (personal & professional) hardships and triumphs - and that has been the gift we gave to each other - a bond that is forged with love, tempered with respect.
The GIF of Polly and the Peaky women is perfect. It is about empowerment- humble, confident, and redeeming - knowing you gave your best. It was power beyond your control that opened the door to greater worth and prosperity. Not just financial - but more meaningful: with confidence rebuilt; courage confirmed; and opportunity for growth - leading to a greater pool of worth and prosperity for you, your family, and your friends.
I too am grateful for being led out that door and down hallways full of opportunity. Many of those doors were closed - even locked shut - but with nervous excitability and anticipation, I kept knockinbg on them. From Luke 11:9-10: "And I tell you, ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you." I found strength and courage to press on and find opportunities to sharpen my professional, academic, and spiritual senses - and I'm grateful that God opened those doors that I knocked upon.
That has givien me a sense of worth that no one can take from you - and because of the grace we stand in with Christ - no one will ever take it from you!
Your thoughts and insights are spot-on and Brandeis is lucky to have landed you. Your potential is only outweighed by your desire - a desire for self-fulfillment grounded in humility - and you are the prize to be won by the suitor.
Keep writing, kid - you're worth following!
Blessings!
I really understood this. After everything Tim and I went through with losing the hotel, I know that feeling of having to face places and people connected to something painful and somehow not let it make you feel small. It takes a lot to walk back in with your head high when part of you probably wants to run in the opposite direction.
I also loved what you said about your friends, because in the end it’s often the people who carry us through, not the place itself. Sometimes when life pulls the rug out from under you, you find out who was really there beside you all along. I’m so glad you went. 🌹