The last time I quit a job it wasn’t exactly preplanned. I actually had one of those “nope, I quit, right here in this moment, I quit” moments. It wasn’t really as dramatic as you might imagine, my company was acquired, my role was changing, and when they explained the new structure I told them I would be leaving. They took my keys and my company credit card, and that was pretty much it. So what did I do next? First I sat in my favorite coffee shop for an hour calling and texting and trying to get my life in order. Important things you know, like would someone in the office please look after my plant? Would someone else cover my interviews that day?
And then? I went home and cried. Sobbed for hours actually. I was completely heartbroken. Devastated beyond belief. I loved my job. It was a role I’d more or less designed for myself four years prior at a company I felt I’d worked hard to shape from it’s very early days. And just like that in a span of less than 48 hours it was over. One of the most formative learning experiences of my life was just done. There wouldn’t be any more early morning flights to the west coast, afternoon trains home from New York, late night Ubers home silently celebrating a great event in the backseat. And my coworkers. I’d never had better coworkers. In four years we’d had weddings and pregnancy announcements, big moves and breakups, all of the life that happens when most of a company is in their mid 20’s to mid 30’s. I couldn’t even fathom not seeing them every day, and I hadn’t been able to say goodbye to any of them.
If anyone asked I’d say it was all fine, it was time, it was the right decision, etc. The professional equivalents of “everything happens for a reason”. It felt ridiculous to say out loud how sad I was feeling, what a sense of loss I felt walking away from a job that had, at times, driven me crazy. What I didn’t realize in that moment is that the grief that comes from losing a job is very real, and feels very much like every other kind of grief. We hold so much of our identity in what we do. It feels distinctly a part of us and losing it, especially unexpectedly, sends shock waves. It’s unsettling and disruptive and takes a toll on your mental health just like any other kind of grieving process. I’m writing this as another 1.4 million unemployment claims were filed last week, bringing us to 18 straight weeks of more than 1 million unemployment claims, in total 53 million since March. So many people will be looking for work while mourning the job they lost.
I think it’s important to let yourself feel the loss. Acknowledging it, naming it, letting those close to you know how you’re feeling, it all helps with moving on. You aren’t just scared, or anxious, or worried about finding a new job, you’re also very actively grieving the job you no longer have. You’re attempting to find closure in a situation you had no control over. Naming those feelings and accepting that there is a grieving process to navigate is important. It’s also important to realize that your need to grieve and take time, your need to process, is as important as your need to find a new job. So often we jump straight into searching for something else and never take a second to pause and reflect on what we’re feeling.
Get outside, call a friend, walk your dog, but more than anything - know that the emotions you experience when leaving a job are valid. Shock, anger, hurt, sadness, and yes grief, it’s all valid and it’s all important. It’s a real loss and it’s okay to feel it.