I’ve been sitting on this post about redundancy for a while. I was officially given notice two months ago, but wanted to wait until the end of my notice period before publishing it.
I’ve come back to it a few times – adding, adjusting, and reflecting – so what you’re about to read is a mix of the initial rawness I felt when it happened, and the clarity that comes with a little time and distance.
So here we are. Today is officially my last day.
My Role Has Been Made Redundant
For the past year, as I became increasingly burnt out again, I had been hoping for this.
Not fearing it. Not dreading it. Hoping for it.
In a world where corporate redundancies have become as predictable as the changing seasons, the cycle feels relentless – every few months, another round, another group let go, while the rest of us hold our breath.
I narrowly missed redundancy multiple times in the last couple of years, watching as others left while I remained – part of the dust settling. Each time, I felt a strange mix of emotions: relief at staying and disappointment at being stuck.
Because deep down, I knew it was probably only a matter of time. Part of me was hoping for it, and part of me was expecting it. I understood the benefits of staying – stability, security, familiarity – but I was desperate to discover what might come from being freed.
Not because I wanted to lose my job, but because I had known – deep down – for a long time that my career no longer aligned with who I was becoming.
Then, after a two-month break to address my burnout – ending with a short cruise – I returned to work, feeling uncertain about how I could go back and stay feeling good – and then…
The very first meeting of my first day back sealed it.
Redundancy.
Just like that, the decision was made for me.
Redundancy Isn’t the Same for Everyone
For me, this was a relief. But I know that’s not the case for everyone.
Redundancy can feel like rejection. Like uncertainty. Like grief for the career you worked so hard to build.
If you’re struggling with it right now, I see you.
Maybe you weren’t ready.
Maybe you’re worried about what’s next.
Maybe it feels unfair.
All of those feelings are valid.
And if there’s one thing I know, it’s that redundancy is never just about the job.
It’s about identity
– who are we when we’re no longer tied to our career?
It’s about security
– what happens when the stability we relied on is suddenly gone?
It’s about control
– how do we move forward when the choice wasn’t ours to make?
If you’re feeling lost, you’re not alone.
But I also believe that there is life after this.
And maybe – just maybe – it will be a better one.
For Me, This Was the Push I Needed
Fourteen years in the same company. Fourteen years of pushing, delivering, proving myself. And then, just like that, it was over.
I could have looked at this as a loss. I could have panicked. I could have let fear take over – after all, I’m older now, and re-entering the workforce may not be as easy as it once was.
But I’m not panicking.
Because this isn’t just an ending. It’s a redirection.
If I had stayed, I would have been forcing it – trying to make something work that no longer fit.
Now, I don’t have to force anything.
I can choose what comes next.
Around the same time as my role was made redundant, I was honoured with a Woman of Impact global recognition award. This wasn’t for my day job – it was for the mental health advocacy and community work I’d been doing – the work I did voluntarily and was most passionate about.
On one hand, it was hard to reconcile receiving this recognition at the same time as being made redundant. But I’m choosing to see it as a serendipitous opportunity – a quiet, meaningful send-off that didn’t just acknowledge what I did, but recognised who I truly was.
It didn’t make the redundancy any less real, but it softened it. It felt like the closing of one chapter and the gentle opening of another – one that might just allow me to focus more fully on what matters most to me.
Burnout Changed Me – This Made It Official
Before I took my break, I wasn’t just burned out – I was unrecognisable to myself.
I had spent years playing by the rules, assuming that if I just worked harder, delivered more, and kept proving my value, everything would fall into place.
But the truth was, I had outgrown that world.
I just didn’t know how to leave.
Now?
I don’t have to go back to a job that no longer aligns with who I am.
I can create something new.
This redundancy didn’t take something from me – it gave me back my freedom.
I Could Dwell on the Negatives, But I Won’t
Let’s be honest. There are challenges ahead.
- I don’t have the safety net of a corporate job anymore.
- If I ever need to return to work, my age might work against me.
- This is a massive shift from the career I’ve built over decades.
I could focus on those things. I could dwell on the uncertainty.
But I refuse to let fear dictate my future.
Instead, I’m looking at everything this moment is giving me:
- The time to fully recover from burnout.
- The freedom to do something more aligned with my values.
- The chance to explore Nostos Nest, writing, and whatever else inspires me.
- The ability to live life without the weight of a job that drained me.
I could obsess over what I’ve lost – but instead, I’m focusing on what I’ve gained.
If You’re Going Through This Too, Here’s What I Want You to Know
Redundancy is a shock. Even when you see it coming.
It’s ok if you’re grieving the career you had. It’s ok if you feel lost.
But I also want you to remember:
- This moment doesn’t define you. You are more than your job.
- Your skills, experience, and value didn’t disappear overnight.
- This could be the door to something better – even if you can’t see it yet.
Some of the best things in life happen when we’re forced to let go of what we thought we needed.
Even if it doesn’t feel like a gift right now, I hope one day it will.
No Matter Your Situation, Look for the Opportunity
This isn’t just about redundancy. It’s about life.
There will always be moments where things don’t go as planned.
You lose a job. A relationship ends. A door you counted on closes.
And in those moments, you can either:
- Stare at the closed door, wishing it would reopen.
- Or turn around and see what new opportunities are growing in front of you.
We don’t always get to control what happens to us.
But we always get to control how we respond.
And right now?
I’m responding with excitement. With curiosity. With optimism.
Because this is my reset.
And I intend to use it well.
If you’re struggling after a recent redundancy, you might find this article from Beyond Blue helpful: Job loss and looking after your mental health
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