The Beauty of Being Laid Off in Your Early 50s

I was laid off at the beginning of November from a job I loved. It wasn’t entirely unexpected — we had a major layoff in mid-September, and based on how the rest of the quarter went, I could sense another wave coming. I just didn’t know it would happen right after Election Day (Thanks, Trump!).

When I got a Slack huddle request from my boss, my first thought was, “Oh wow, I’m getting laid off!” Even though I had just closed a multi-million-dollar deal, the axe had come for me. And honestly? I felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest. I excitedly took the call, already prepared for the news.

In all my years in corporate America — working for both large firms and scrappy startups — I had always managed to sidestep layoffs. But this time, it was my turn.

Several coworkers had received ominous “1-on-1” meeting requests over the weekend, and their writing was on the wall. So when my moment came, I didn’t resist. Instead, I dusted off my resume, crafted a tailored cover letter, and applied to a few companies where I had contacts.

Then came the interviews.