The Hardest Part of Being Downsized (and the Easiest)

The one thing you have to do after being laid off, the one thing that never fails to be awkward, is to start telling people about it. For me, the first thing was telling my family. They took it well and were very supportive, and I loved them for it. The thing was, for the last few years I'd talked about leaving the job on my terms. What I meant by this was finding a job that was a better fit, turning in my resignation, shaking hands with co-workers and supervisors, and driving off into the sunset. Granted, I'd probably be driving away from the sunset, but you get what I mean.

However, there I was, telling people that I had been laid off, repeating a lot of the same information and opinions, and managing to stay fairly positive through it all. Here's the thing—it's not the end of the world. There was just the loud sound of one door slamming, and I'd had to announce, very publicly, I'd failed to achieve the goal I'd set for myself.

When you call people to tell them you've been let go, there's another issue that comes up—how do you phrase it? In corpspeak, my position was eliminated due to financial concerns, a heaping mouthful of sterile verbiage. So how do you translate that into everyday terms? Saying I was fired means I was at fault. My usual term, "laid off," suggests that I would be hired back if work increased. I could probably go with "downsized," which seems to dance around what actually happens. Maybe that's for the best, though—I don't really want to talk get into the whys and wherefores of what happened at my last job, other than it's over and I'm moving on. Also, let's be honest—I'm covering my bases, here. There are a lot of ways to foul up a job search, and smearing a former company is one of the Top 10 ways to do so.

If telling people I'd been downsized (what the heck) was the hardest part, waking up the next morning was the easiest. I woke up at 8, when I'd be starting my job, and instead of panicking or thinking about all the projects I had to get through, I looked up at the ceiling, took a deep breath, and let myself relax. Eventually, I'd have to turn in the severance agreement. Eventually, I'd file for unemployment. Eventually, I'd start looking for new and exciting positions on the Internet, contacting people about jobs and joining in the grind of the unemployed looking for work. For now, though, I was at peace.