The Layoff as a Collective Awakening

When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves. —Viktor Frankl

I’ve been hearing and reading stories lately. Not headlines or statistics—shifting stories, stories of people losing their jobs. What’s unfolding isn’t just economic. It’s emotional. It’s deeply personal. A friend of a friend who just had a baby and was laid off. A client whose partner relocated across continents for a job that vanished overnight. A LinkedIn connection whose partner is ill, whose visa depends on employment, and another whose dream company just let them go.

Layoffs are no longer isolated events; they’ve become a collective experience—a shared disruption that’s asking us to rethink how we work, how we belong, and how we care for one another.

The Moral Responsibility of Organizations in Offboarding with Dignity

Layoffs are not just operational decisions, they are moral moments. How an organization offboards its people reveals its true values far more than any mission statement ever could. 

Offboarding deserves the same intentionality, empathy, and structure that organizations dedicate to onboarding. The way people are supported as they leave sends a lasting message—to those departing, to those staying, and to the broader community watching.

A thoughtful offboarding process communicates with transparency and timeliness. It acknowledges the individual’s contributions and provides space for appreciation and closure. It offers clarity about next steps, access to resources, and emotional support rather than silence. It allows leaders to show presence and empathy instead of avoidance. An ideal goodbye is one that leaves people feeling seen, respected, and supported as they step into uncertainty. 

🔸 Note: Companies can extend genuine care through thoughtful measures—career coaching, outplacement support, wellbeing sessions, mental health counseling, networking introductions, upskilling opportunities, and clear communication about references or rehire possibilities. Some go further by offering bridge-to-next programs, and extended access to internal learning platforms and communities channels. 

The Invisible Grief of Losing a Role

Career loss is often treated as a logistical event—something to “handle.” But beneath the surface, there’s grief. Not just for the income, but for the title that gave confidence, the rhythm of everyday life, the team that felt like family and the sense of progress or purpose. 

Life has shifted. Emotions like sadness, anger, disorientation, even quiet disapproval, become part of the new normal. Yet for many, the discomfort is already so great that there’s a rush to fix, to reframe, to move on. The advice that often follows? “Stay productive.” Update your CV. Network. Chase interviews. Keep going.

But healing asks for space.

Only when we pause can we notice our being—the part of us that isn’t ready to sprint. The part that needs to feel the grief, the fear, the loss. The part that quietly insists: I am still whole. Still loved. Still valuable—even without a title or a paycheck.

So how do we integrate the duality between doing and being? Between rebuilding and remembering? Between action and acknowledgment?

Inner Security in a World of Uncertainty

There’s a kind of security that doesn’t rely on contracts, titles, or external validation. It’s inner security: the quiet confidence that we can learn, adapt, connect, contribute, and stay true to our values.

Studies show that when we hold a hopeful, future-oriented outlook, we’re more likely to take intentional action — not because we’re certain of the outcome, but because we have the optimism that things will work out and the confidence in our ability to shape it.

This doesn’t mean pretending fear isn’t there; it means learning to move forward with it. You might ask yourself: am I forcing things out of pressure, or taking steps that feel right for me? I had to ask myself the same question when I decided to start my own business. Over time, I realized my next step wasn’t driven by urgency, but by self-respect — by knowing what felt right and sustainable. That self-awareness helped me see I was finally moving in a direction that truly fit who I wanted to become.

Rethinking Productivity: From Output to Alignment

After a layoff, many people feel pressure to “stay productive.” But what does that really mean—and whose definition are we following?

Productivity isn’t just about output. It can also mean resting when the body asks for it, reflecting before reacting, and creating space to reconnect—both inward and outward. Sometimes, the most productive thing we can do is pause.

And that pause isn’t passive. It’s a moment of accountability, not avoidance. A chance to shift from chasing a job to crafting a role that aligns with your values and sense of self.

In my work with clients, I’ve seen how intentional reflection after job loss leads to better alignment, stronger motivation, and more satisfying reemployment. When we honor that pause, we don’t fall behind—we begin again, with purpose.

 🔸 Note: People can extend genuine care toward themselves through practices that support emotional regulation and self-inquiry—tapping, meditation, nature walks, sauna, cold plunges, breathwork, red light or near-infrared exposure, humming, movement, prayer, and quiet reflection. Other supportive practices include journaling, expressive writing, somatic movement, sound baths, forest bathing, digital detox, creative expression, sleep hygiene, and rituals of transition. 

How Communities—Especially Expat Ones—Can Create Belonging

For expats, a layoff can feel like the collapse of multiple worlds. The job wasn’t just employment—it was the anchor. It held the visa, the social circle, the sense of identity. When it disappears, it’s not just about losing work. It’s the disruption of close-circle support, the unraveling of routines, and the sudden, lingering question: Where do I belong now?

Yet within that rupture, something remarkable can begin. Communities rise—or perhaps, we begin to notice help and possibilities that were once invisible. Social media threads and group chats become lifelines. Skill-sharing circles spark unexpected collaborations. Coworking spaces offer structure, connection, and solidarity. Career advisors, mentors, and former peers step in.

These “new people” arrive with quiet acts of care. Their presence says: You still belong. You are still seen. We’ll figure this out together.

🔸 Note: After a layoff, connection doesn’t just happen—you can lead it. Consider reaching out and be direct with your requests. Ask for help, and be willing to receive it. Share what you’re exploring, not just what you’ve lost. Let people know how they might support you—whether it’s feedback, introductions, or simply listening. And when it feels right, offer your skills in return. Generosity builds trust. This isn’t about transactional networking—it’s about intentional belonging and mutual care.

The Quiet Courage of Reinvention

In my coaching work, from time to time someone voices a truth they hadn’t dared to say aloud: “I think I want something different.”

A client may be ready to leave behind a role that never quite fit, yet feel hesitant or doubtful about exploring new pathways. These moments are worth pausing for. They might show up blurred, with no clear idea of what’s next. Other times, they come with sparks of clarity—a side project, a past volunteer experience, a hidden talent, a long-forgotten interest, or even a new trend in the job market that feels genuinely worth exploring.

Endings carry the potential for new beginnings. Reinvention isn’t about starting over—it’s about starting in a way that feels right at this stage of life.

Closing: A New Kind of Awakening

Layoffs can be painful, disorienting—or surprisingly clarifying. Whatever the experience, this moment is revealing something deeper: a collective awakening.

We’re being asked to rethink how we work, how we belong, and how we define ourselves. Layoffs remind us that career transitions are part of the working world, and they invite us to reimagine careers grounded in dignity, community, and personal alignment.

We’re reminded, too, that we are not our titles, salaries, or output. We are whole people—with resilience, humor, and dreams. And we belong to a broader community, one that carries a shared responsibility: to ensure everyone has the opportunity to contribute their skills and talents where they’re needed.

For more reflections on my experience living abroad, my work on career-self awareness, and my perspective on career transitions, follow me on:

Instagram: @atypical.careers

Linkdin https://www.linkedin.com/in/edith-escobedo/

Article written by Edith Escobedo

Photo by Unsplash Media