A story about grief, layoffs, rebuilding confidence, and the people who help us find our way forward.

I started writing this as a LinkedIn series for people navigating layoffs in one of the toughest job markets I’ve seen. But the more I wrote, the more I realized this wasn’t really just a story about finding a job.

It was a story about losing things I thought were permanent. A parent. A role. A team. A version of myself I had known for years.

And slowly rebuilding.

Chapter 1: When Everything Changes at Once

2024 was a rough year.
And 2026? It’s been brutal—over 100,000 people in tech roles have already been laid off in just the first few months. Behind every number is someone’s story.

This is mine.

On April 29, it will be two years since my mom passed away. Grief doesn’t move on a timeline—it shows up when it wants. For me, I coped the only way I knew how: staying busy. Work. Volunteering. Checking things off lists. Moving forward because sitting still felt impossible.

In September 2024, I flew to my mom’s house and, in less than a month, packed up a lifetime of memories and sold it. Shortly after, I spread her ashes in the places she loved most.

That same day, I got the call. After 12 years with a company—and 7 years before that as a partner—my role was eliminated. In a company of thousands, sometimes life-changing decisions happen quietly. A name on a spreadsheet. A business decision. But behind every name is a person and a story. Twelve of us, all high-performing, all gone.

Stunned doesn’t quite cover it. I wish I could say I immediately handled it with grace and perspective. I did not.

I thought I’d bounce back quickly.
Strong experience. Proven track record. Deep relationships.

I was wrong. Experience doesn’t shorten the process anymore.

It took me 18 months to land my next role. That’s the market right now. It’s not a sprint—it’s a long game.

Over the past year and a half, I learned more than I ever expected about resilience, identity, and what it actually takes to navigate a job search today.

I’m going to share that here—honestly and without fluff.

If you’re somewhere in the middle of your own long game, this is what I learned.

Chapter 2: The First Mistake – Reacting Instead of Reflecting

The Mistakes I Made Early

In the first 3 months, I did what most people do.
I reacted.

I updated my resume quickly, leaned heavily on LinkedIn, and applied to everything I could before the holiday slowdown.

Then came the silence.

I took classes on tools I saw listed in job descriptions, thinking it would make a difference.
It didn’t.

And then came a different kind of grief.
Not just the loss of a job—but the loss of rhythm, purpose, and team.

That turned into frustration. Then resentment.

I remember one call with my coach where I wasn’t in a good place.
That’s when I realized—I needed to stop pushing and actually pause.

What I’d do differently:

I’d slow down.

Get clear on what I actually wanted—not just what I was qualified to do.
Write down what I loved, what I’d change, and what I’d never do again.

Then be intentional about where I applied.

“Applying wasn’t the strategy. People were.”

Because applying to everything isn’t a strategy.
It’s a reaction.

Why was I applying everywhere? Fear.

What happened in the next 6 months?

From January to October 2025, I thought I was hustling.
And I was—at least as much as the market allowed.

I took on a part-time project designing an Airbnb. It was new for me, but it gave me something creative to build—and reminded me I still enjoyed the work.

Once I got past the initial frustration and silence, I stepped back and looked at how I’d actually landed my previous roles.

Every single one came through a referral.

So I shifted my approach.

I started reaching out to former colleagues—seeing where they landed, learning about their companies, and reconnecting where it made sense.

That led to an interview in April.
A company full of people from my last role.
The experience, the background, the referral—it all lined up.

I thought I had it.

I didn’t get it.

That one hit harder than I expected. And why does that news always seem to arrive on a Monday?

Another referral came shortly after. Great people, great pay—but the role was a stretch in a way that didn’t quite align. They went with someone more experienced.

That’s when it clicked:

Applying wasn’t the strategy.
People were.

Not just who you know—but who knows you, and how.

Chapter 3: The Pause I Didn’t Know I Needed

Midway through this journey, a conversation with a family member sparked the idea of starting my own business.

I explored it seriously.
Spoke to mentors. Talked to former colleagues.
The encouragement was there.

But the reality was different.

By then, my severance had run out.
Unemployment had kicked in—and it wasn’t enough to live on.

COBRA was costing us $2,000 a month for healthcare.
Necessary, because my spouse was navigating major health issues we discovered in January 2025.

We had savings.
It gave us time—but not forever.

Time became my most valuable resource.

That summer, I made a decision.
I stopped chasing jobs—and paused the idea of starting a business.

Instead, I leaned into volunteer work.
For the first time in 15 years, I could show up fully—without balancing it against a full-time job.

So I did.

It ended up being one of the most fulfilling summers I’ve had.

You took a vacation? With no job, declining savings, and health concerns – yes, I took a vacation.

We were celebrating a milestone wedding anniversary with great friends so we went to Tuscany and Barcelona.

Right before the trip, I came across Stephanie Brown’s Creative Career Lab on LinkedIn.
Her content resonated immediately.

We set up a call. I shared my story—she walked me through her program.
t felt like exactly what I needed.

But I had no income.
No severance. No unemployment.

It was hard to justify the cost.

Then I realized—the real question wasn’t the cost.
It was whether I believed I was worth investing in.

Travel has always been something that resets me. It feeds my soul in a way I’ve never been able to fully explain. This trip did exactly that.

When I got back, I made the decision.

I signed up for the program.

It was the best career decision I made in 2025.

Chapter 4: Rebuilding Differently

I’m not being paid to promote this program or Stephanie Brown.
I’m sharing it because it worked—and it shifted how I approached everything.

Here’s what I actually learned:

Networking is the strategy
Resumes are positioning tools, not history logs
Interviewing has changed more than I realized

That alone changed how I showed up.

But the bigger shift came from the experience itself.

Twice-weekly group calls with people going through the same process.
At first, I listened. It felt impersonal.

It wasn’t.

Everyone was navigating their own version of this journey.
You start to learn from each other—what’s working, what’s not, how the process is actually evolving.

That perspective was just as valuable as the content.

After being out of the workforce for a year, I focused on the most critical pieces:
how to position myself, how to tell my story, and how to show up in conversations.

“Networking isn’t a step in the process. It is the process.”

And it kept coming back to the same thing: Networking isn’t a step in the process.
It is the process.

What actually worked was changing the conversation.

Stop asking: “Who is hiring?”

Start asking: “What are you seeing? What skills matter now? What would you do differently?”

Reconnect before you need something. Relationships can’t only happen when you need a favor.

This was the biggest lesson:

Every job I’ve ever landed came through a referral.

Most roles are filled before they’re ever publicly available.
That’s not reassuring—but it’s the reality.

You’d think, as an extrovert, networking would come naturally.
It didn’t.

It felt uncomfortable at first.

What changed was my approach.

I stopped asking for a job.
I started asking for advice.

I reached out to former colleagues, people I had worked with before, and others they recommended.
Every conversation felt like picking up where we left off.

We talked about their path, what they were seeing in the market, what mattered now.
And almost every time, they asked:

What are you looking for? How can I help?

That’s when it clicked.

People don’t help because you ask for a job.
They help because they understand you.

I built a simple system to stay organized—tracking conversations, following up, and making it easy for people to connect. (For me, that was a Trello board and a scheduling link.)

One of my favorite conversations was with a former intern.
Even back then, I knew he was going places.

He introduced me to several people at companies I was targeting—leading to interviews I wouldn’t have had otherwise.

That’s the power of relationships over time.

Lesson:
Be the person who sees people—not just resumes or circumstances.

Take the call.
Make the introduction.
Stay connected.

Because in a market like this, that’s what makes the difference.

CHAPTER 5: THE NEXT CHAPTER Where I Landed

I spent 18 months rebuilding.

Rebuilding my confidence.
Rebuilding my network.
Rebuilding how I think about work.

I took courses. Learned new tools.
Reached out to people doing the roles I was interested in.
Shared my story—and listened to theirs.

In the end, the opportunity came through a conversation with someone I volunteer with.

A few months later, she recommended me for a role at Greenline Climate.

It’s not a traditional Creative Operations role—but it is operations-focused, and I’m excited to apply my experience in a new environment with a team that’s building something meaningful.

On the same day I started this role, I also began a 12-week Creative Operations course at Rutgers.

I had committed to it before I had an offer.
Now, I get to apply what I’m learning in real time.

What this experience taught me: