A year ago this week (June 2017), I was laid off from work, along with a hundred or so other people. I had worked at the company for nearly 18 years and being let go came as a shock. I never thought of myself as a superstar in my job, but I was hard working and smart and loyal. I volunteered for any work or role in my department that no one else wanted or couldn’t keep up with. I should have seen what was coming when one of my colleagues was learning to backup a function I already backed up. 

It was an early summer day in June when I was let go: warm, with a deep blue sky, and  the sunshine sparkling like diamonds dancing on the hoods of cars. I remember the cars, because as I was escorted out the door to a building I would never see again, I couldn’t help but think: What a beautiful day. Yet, the brilliant sun and sky clashed with my shock and confusion. So much sunshine, so many cars, I won’t be coming back, I have no frame of reference for this. I found my own sparkling car, a white pearl Subaru Outback. Thank god the car is paid for.

Forty-five minutes earlier, I had been in the Women’s Room, still gainfully employed. I had no idea of what was to transpire just a few minutes after my last bathroom break in that building. As I walked the long aisle back toward my cubicle, I noticed my boss hovering near my desk, but also near the desk of a colleague. I wondered which of my many projects she wanted to discuss. As I drew closer, she turned away from my desk. I guess it isn’t me she wants to talk to. But it was.

“Where were you?” She asked. I told her I’d been in the Women’s room.

After a deep breath, she said, “Cindy, I have to take you to HR.”  I was not the first person laid off from my team that day, so I knew what was happening. I just didn’t think it would be me. I thought I was valued.

I stood up and turned toward a friend who worked in the cubicle behind me. I pointed both hands at my chest and said, “Me.”  She looked confused, “What?” Again, “Me.” I don’t remember if her mouth was open in shock, but it may as well have been. She was as surprised as I was.

My boss and I began the long walk to the elevators. She seemed sad, misty eyed. For some reason, I felt I needed to comfort her.

“I know you didn’t have anything to do with this,” I said.  She was silent.

A year later, I realize she did have something to do with my being let go. She may have been a reluctant participant, but a participant she was. She may have been asked which five members of her team she would lay off if, and I made her list. She may have been ordered to let me and the others go from the abusive Queen of Operations and her equally abusive sidekick, The Duke of Dicks. As far as I can tell, she didn’t put up a fight. I had only worked for her one year.  For the first half of the year, she told me I was one of her “go-to” people, she told me I had a lot of knowledge and experience. Is it any wonder I felt valued? During the second half of the year, she said I was an outlier on the team: the only one still exempt and making more money than anyone else. Trust me when I tell you, I was not overpaid, but this is a cheap company.

“What we need to do,” she said during a few of our one-on-one development sessions, is get you out of the day to day work and give you broader projects.” She said something like that to me more than once. I would tell her during these meetings that I really liked working for her and I loved my job. These things were very true. She said nothing and made no facial expression during these statements. I should have known.

The truth is, she never did anything to move me into a larger role that would have fit with my higher level job, the outlier position. In fact, it was she who kept throwing me day to day work. At the time she walked me down the hallway, however, I didn’t think any of this.

“Well, at least I won’t have to work on the SharePoint,” I joked. She looked as though she were crying a bit. Maybe she felt badly?

The SharePoint (an Intranet system)  was a ridiculous project that quickly became irrelevant no matter what features were updated or added. We had recently been fully acquired by one of our parent companies, and it was clear to me that no matter what I did to move the SharePoint forward, it would still be backward. The company who acquired us would impose their own Intranet on us. So, one of the bigger projects I worked on was valueless. 

I read an article over the past year that said being laid off is being fired. I tend to agree with that view. While the organization hasn’t fired you for doing something against company policy or for doing a very bad job, you are fired because they can do without you.  You didn’t impress them enough to want to keep you. You contribute, you may even contribute well, but your contributions are not valued in comparison with those who remain after the layoff event. You are not valuable enough.

Well, here’s the thing: You are not valuable enough to them, but you much more valuable than you know. And someone will see that in you and you must see it in yourself. Things get better and there are better places to be in your life, yet to come. Hang in there.