Reframing Redundancy

Last Minute Calendar Invite

An unexpected meeting invite landed in my calendar. I rolled my eyes. Which is it going to be, the cynic in me wondered. Another rally-the-troops session or the latest strategy that’s a revamp of something we did 3 years ago? 

I clicked in.

Attendees: my manager, my director, a HR person, and no one else. Hmmm... Not a team meeting so. Has something happened to one of my team members? Was there a complaint against someone…against me?! Some sort of HR incident?

It turned out to be the latter, though not in the way I was expecting. My role was essentially being made redundant. 

Keep calm and carry on, they said

The main speaker kept things professional, empathetic yet breezy, clear communication that this was inevitable, it’s not personal. Let’s keep calm and carry on and figure out the best next option, with all the resources available to us.

The other two participants looked sick to their stomachs. They all knew I took my job seriously, was a great contributor, was the breadwinner, a single parent of a 2y old and a 4y old and they were presumably bracing for a bad reaction.

All I could focus on was not crying. I still have no idea why. Crying is a very normal and acceptable response to shocking news with huge repercussions. Some sort of not-very-helpful face-saving nonsense kicked in. Or maybe I was trying to spare my poor manager yet another meeting in which I ended up in tears because of work and life pressures drowning me.

I was lucky, I was offered options, rather than being unceremoniously booted out the door. But I dithered back and forth. A friend of mine tried to set me straight: ‘So what you need in life right now is time and space. And they’re offering you time and space AND you’ll get a generous lump sum. Tell me again what the actual decision is??’ 

Who am I?!

A full-blown identity crisis unfolded. Which was annoying because I realised I enjoyed being snooty about people who define themselves by their job. Followed immediately by the realisation that I was one of those people. But the main alternative identity was single mother...two words that do not conjure up an image I want to be associated with. There really wasn’t a whole lot else going on in my life. How had I let that happen - just work and kids?! Where had Claire gone?

The power of poetry

It wasn't until my executive coach sent me a beautiful poem about missing the boat that I knew with 100% certainty that the clear and only option was to exit with grace, my head held high. My friend was dead right. There was literally no decision to be made, the choice was obvious. 

Interestingly I’ve read the poem since and I didn’t get the lightbulb moment or wave of tears and clarity I did at the time. I suppose I was so ready to hear that leaving was a valid and respectable choice, but it only finally clicked with me when I heard it from a corporate person I had huge admiration and respect for. I needed the validation.

I finally chose the redundancy package.

Time Out

I took 6 months off. Again a decision that was hard to make, even though it was the obvious one. Again my wonderful friend advised me to just intentionally pick a length of time and stick to it. She knows I can tie myself up in knots weighing up big decisions, but once they’re made, I’m like a freight train, all in. If I was taking time off, it was going to be constructive!

Structured Relaxation…

I spent June taking midday naps and bingeing on Britain’s Got Talent and America’s Got Talent. I cried rivers over ridiculously talented children with heartbreaking backstories. The talent! The passion! The parental pride! The standing ovations! Sure, the emotions of the past couple of years had to come out somehow. A big cleansing seemed to be underway and it was deliciously cathartic.

July was all about fitness. I joined a gym and started strength training for the first time in years. Bought a gorgeous new road bike and headed for the Dublin and Wicklow hills for the first time in 5 years. Bought a cargo bike wishing fervently the kids will love bikes as much as I do (they don’t, it’s devastating). There were countless hill walks up Ticknock and I started swimming in the sea again. Well, dipping in the sea as my actual sea swimmer friends corrected me. You know the type :) 

And so the months rolled on. August was road trips and a bit of culture with museum and art gallery visits. September brought an explosion of new people into my life…school gate Mums and Dads, a road biking group full of great craic MAMILs, GAA Nursery parents, deeper connections with some of my coaching course colleagues, and fellow pop choir members singing for the pure joy of making beautiful, harmonious sounds. I felt the old Claire was coming back to life, positive energy emanating from a fitter body. If only I could keep off the Wispas. 

October was a parenting minefield but my 5 year old pulled through. Yes, kiddo, school is now a permanent fixture in your life. Yes, the scratchy grey uniform is horrendous and yes, unfortunately, you still have to wear it, sweetheart.

Confidence Comeback

I liked the breezy confidence with which I replied to ‘So, what do you do?’ with ‘Oh, I’m not working at the moment.’ I enjoyed watching either surprise or curiosity or envy flitter across faces. Whenever I shared that my role was made redundant - that’s the lingo, it is the role that was made redundant, not you, words matter - inevitably someone shared that they too had experienced a layoff. And they too had been enabled to make a massive and positive life change - a much-needed career break to reassess, a bigger house, a more suitable role, fewer hours working, more time for hobbies, interests and little people, a new business venture. After the tears and worry and identity crisis of course. 

A Phoenix Rising

There is, most certainly, life after redundancy. There can often be a much more rewarding and fulfilling life. One that feels more in tune with the real you. My experience lit a fire under me that I was too exhausted and scared to light for myself. I really feel privileged that I can look back with gratitude on being shifted out of my comfortable rut and forced to take a long hard look at what I was spending my time and energy on. And I'm so thankful for the communities around me, what an honour to have so many cheerleaders.

It’s exhilarating to feel like a phoenix rising.