What my redundancy taught me (while still in the thick of it)
If you’re reading this, chances are you’re currently staring at a redundancy notice. If that’s the case, take a big hug from this internet stranger. Because no matter your age, stage, or bank balance, being made redundant f*cking blows.
I’ll be honest: I didn’t handle the news the way I thought I would. Even though I had an inkling it was coming, the confirmation was devastating. Despite knowing it was a business decision, it felt incredibly personal; as if the company didn’t value the blood, sweat, and tears I’d literally spilt on the floorboards.
If you are in this space right now, please know that your reaction is normal. When we are hurt or scared, our "lizard brains" take over. Emotion wins, logic loses. I found my mind racing, my sleep gone, and my appetite on the floor.
The good news? The fog does clear.
It took a few days and one decent night’s sleep before my logical brain clocked back in. I was able to rationalise that while my role no longer served the business, it didn't mean I hadn't added value.
Redundancies are often a mark of survival. My previous company was in a tricky spot with drying capital and "too many mouths to feed." They weren't going to be hiring for a long time, so carrying an internal recruiter was impractical. Once I could see the math, I could stop feeling the malice.
Taking time to reflect—even just a few days—is a necessity, not a luxury. It stops you from rushing into a "rebound" role that leads straight to burnout or a mid-year menty-b.
I don’t have all the answers yet. I’m writing this without a finished "success story" to tie it all together. But I do know this:
Your legacy is more important than a burnt bridge.
Being employed once means you have marketable skills you can leverage again.
You must focus on what you can control; whether that’s frantically cancelling subscriptions or finally weeding the veggie garden.
I won’t pretend it’s straightforward for everyone. We all have different mountains to climb. But while I can’t guarantee you’ll look back on this time fondly, I can guarantee it won’t last forever.
P.S. I’ve been there. I know it sucks. If you’ve been made redundant and just need a bit of support or a sounding board, please reach out via my contact form. No catch, no charge.
