If you are new, the Start Here page is the best place to get oriented. It explains the Trail Markers and the larger journey behind this work.
After the Layoff: What Comes Next?
After a big transition like an unexpected job loss, how do you move forward?
We’ve already talked about the emotions and mechanics of sitting with change. Now let’s talk about what comes next.
For some folks, the answer is relatively easy. The doubt and unease that reveal to some of us that a change in path is needed? They’re not present for you. You miss the actual work you were doing and look forward to jumping right back in.
I know that feeling well—I lived it for 25 years.
If this is where you are, that’s great. Look for roles similar to what you were doing previously, perhaps even within the company that just laid you off, but on other teams. We’ll talk about the mechanics of a job search in a future post.
But things changed for me.
The First Pivot: From Mastery to Misalignment
The first pivot came after 20 straight years in Talent Acquisition—14 of them at Cigna. At the time, I blamed hitting a ceiling. And while it’s true that I did hit a ceiling, I think what was really happening was that I was no longer growing in the profession.
In retrospect, what attracted me to recruiting in the first place was the day-to-day variety coupled with the exciting changes happening in the field at the time. My career happiness may have been more serendipitous than destiny. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time for recruiting to keep me interested.
Tech was changing weekly. Jobs were evolving. I moved from recruiting temps to operations, to sales, to finance, underwriting, HR, IT, clinical, informatics, legal, and public affairs. I went from being an individual contributor to managing an organization as big as 25 full-time employees and another 5 or 6 contractors.
I got to innovate.
Then it stopped.
I don’t know if I got to the point where I wasn’t doing the day-to-day recruiting enough to keep up with new innovation, or—more likely—I had become so entrenched in my way of doing things that some up-and-comer triggered a S.C.A.R.F. reaction in me (a model that explains social threat and reward) that led me to get defensive of the paradigm I’d helped create.
Regardless, the easy wins and the crazy new out-of-the-box thought came less often. The promotions stopped. And bottom line—it stopped being fun.
The Lateral Leap: Rediscovering Joy in Innovation
So I did what lots of people—but not enough people—do: I moved laterally and backwards. To maybe the most fun job ever—the Innovation Team in Cigna University.
Here, I was back in my element for a couple of reasons.
First, it was new, shiny, and fun.
Second, I came from a totally different background, and that difference helped me view problems from other perspectives than my peers.
I’d become a disrupter again.
This is where I was able to “marinade” in gamification before writing my first white paper. I created a gamified talent referral program and led a project that won a company-wide award as well as a Brandon Hall award for innovative training.
The spark was back.
And I don’t think it was because I got better or smarter. I probably became slightly more energized, yes—but my biggest asset was my different point of view and lack of preconceived notions.
The Pattern: Novelty, Perspective, and Purpose
This is a repeating theme for me, and I think it’s a universal truth as well:
Novelty, different perspectives, and life experiences lead to innovation and engagement—at least for some people. People like me.
I still have two more transitions to talk through—including the big one. The one that finally got me to purpose.
Up until now, I think I just got lucky. I was good at what I did, and I kept finding roles that kept me interested. But I wasn’t really choosing.
I was reacting.
The forced time off changed that. It gave me space to sit still, to reflect, to ask better questions. And what came out of that wasn’t just a new job—it was clarity.
Now I’m in a role where the work mirrors my internal needs. There’s no friction. No dissonance. I’m not pretending to care about things that don’t matter to me. I’m not defending paradigms I don’t believe in anymore.
I’m just… aligned.
And I didn’t get here by climbing higher. I got here by stepping back, listening harder, and being honest about what I actually want.
More on that next time.
Reflection Prompts
- Can you think of a time when things were happening to you instead of you driving?
- Has momentum ever taken the place of purpose in your life?
- What would it look like to choose, instead of react?
