Laid Off & Liberated: What Burnout Took from Me and What It Gave Back
I’ve never been more relieved—and strangely, more ready—to be laid off from a $330K a year job.
On paper, I had made it. I was two years into homeownership, living in a new major city far from my family & friends, and working for one of the most iconic tech companies in the world. I had been cherry-picked by a senior executive to lead a secret global initiative…no interview, no resume…just plopped right into the corner office. I got to choose my title, write my own roadmap, and was granted full autonomy. I made it!
The project was ambitious: launch a self-service creative platform to help third-party retail sellers shop for the creative assets they needed to promote their products. My new team stretched across time zones—North America, China, and Europe. We worked around the clock, hustling our way to $30M in revenue in the first year. I felt superior. But inside, I was down bad.
I wasn’t just tired—I was soul-tired.
I had been burning the candle at both ends, pouring everything I had into my work while quietly unraveling in my personal life. I was eating, drinking, and tearing down Saks daily to self-soothe. Smiling on Zoom while silently spiraling. I was running on fumes, but telling myself I just needed to push a little further. My six-figure stock and bonus were around the corner. If I could just make it across that finish line, then maybe I’d finally be free. Ha.
Two months before I was fully vested, I was laid off. For three years and 10 months, I was just another number and meant nothing. At first, I was furious.
I built this…
Me!
Brick by brick. And I be damn’d…
Underneath my deep rage was something quieter. Something more honest.
Relief.
Relief that I no longer had to keep pretending I was okay. Relief that I could finally rest and slow down. I’ve held a job since the age of 14. I never had a break in life.
I felt all kinds of emotions during my 7-month “break.” But burnout proved to be the biggest teacher and helped me reset and shift my grind.
Burnout is a teacher (and sometimes the layoff is the lesson)
Burnout doesn’t always come in flames. Sometimes, it’s slow erosion. The loss of joy. The inability to feel present. The creeping anxiety that no matter how much you do, it’s never enough.
Getting laid off was my permission slip to get off the hamster wheel and break free from the golden handcuffs. Frankly, I didn’t have a choice.
It forced me to slow down, look inward, and ask real questions about what success actually looks like and who I was becoming in the pursuit of it. Uncertainty can be the starting point of reinvention.
Practicing Self-Compassion When Your Career Goes Left
When you’re high-achieving, your default response to setbacks is often self-blame, depression, or shame. I should’ve seen it coming. I should’ve worked harder. I should’ve had a backup plan.
But self-compassion asks a different question: What do I need right now?
For me, the answer was rest. Self-preservation. Grace. Reflection. And being honest with myself.
Here are a few self-compassion practices that helped me re-center when everything felt like it was falling apart:
Talk to yourself like a friend. If someone you loved had just been laid off, what would you say to them? Say that to yourself or try being delulu for once in your life.
Feel the feelings without judging them. Anger, grief, guilt, even relief—they’re all valid. You don’t have to rush to silver linings.
Set micro-goals. You don’t need to rebuild your life overnight. Some days, the win is just getting out of bed, updating your resume, or going for a walk. Develop a new routine and pace yourself.
Don’t spiritualize exhaustion. You’re not failing because you’re tired. You’re tired because the system was built that way. Rest is not weakness.
Life is Just One Big Pivot
Being laid off didn’t just end a chapter; it forced me to write a new one. One where I’m no longer driven by fear of being left behind, but by alignment, intention, and freedom. I’m not afraid to lose anything, because life - my life - gets better.
Here’s what I’ve learned about pivoting when the plan falls apart:
Your worth isn’t tied to your job. Losing a job doesn’t mean you’ve lost your value. It means you have space to explore who you are beyond your résume.
Your skills are transferable. Leadership, strategy, creativity, resilience—those don’t vanish when your role does.
You get to redefine success. Maybe it’s less about climbing the next ladder and more about creating a life that doesn’t require constant recovery.
Today, I’ll go on record and say that I am still trying to heal. But I prioritize what’s best for me and can quickly recognize the signs. Hence why we’re all gathered here.
And while I’m still figuring all of this out, one thing is clear:
Burnout was not my ending. It was my way of pivoting into my best self.