My Target Layoff: One Year Later

One year ago yesterday, I was a 23-year-old, 5 months into my first job in corporate America- and I was loving it.

Having spent the previous 4 years working retail, enduring all of its unpredictability in schedule, customers, and work-load, there was something almost exhilarating about the consistency and regularity of this new opportunity.

Every morning was the same. I’d take the bus to the train and ride into downtown, where I’d walk the final 5 blocks to work. I’d get to the office a little early, grab breakfast at the cafeteria, and make sure I was ready for the day. As others trickled in, I could feel the energy building- the still and quiet replaced by the dull roar of productivity. And then it was off to the races.

Although the morning ritual was the same, no one workday felt exactly like another. As a brand new Target employee, I was learning a lot, and fast. From meeting rhythms to production cycles to cross-functional teams there was quite a bit to become familiarized with, and each day brought plenty of opportunity to work on something that I hadn’t tackled yet.

It was the most “adult” I’d felt in my life. There was something about the commute, and the meetings, and the processes, and the people that felt important and purposeful.

One year ago today, I was a 23-year-old, 5 months into my first job in corporate America- and I was sitting in a meeting where I was told that my position was being eliminated.

Since that day, I have, on many occasions, explained that moment as one of the most surreal experiences of my life.

It felt make-believe.

I remember looking around the room, and not being able to make sense of what was going on.

“Wait, did he actually just say that all of our positions have been eliminated?”

I remember that even for having been there only a short time, I recognized people that had much more important jobs than mine sitting in the same room, hearing the same news.

“Hang on. He hired me! And she’s been here longer than anyone I know! And he leads the team driving some of our newest initiatives! How could they be let go?”

I remember waiting in line to get all of our documents before we headed off to pack up our desks, awkwardly making eye contact with those around me and having no idea what to say.

I remember not really feeling the capacity for any emotion but shock until I walked upstairs and saw the rest of my team- it’s hard to hold back tears when you see the people that have made your job the kind of place you’re happy to be and realize those relationships have now been taken away from you.

I remember calling my wife, Olivia, from a small conference room to tell her that I’d lost my job and that today was my last day- both of us could barely talk through the tears.

I remember how much of a blur the rest of the day was. There was packing up my desk, saying goodbye to my team, and sitting through the mandatory HR exit meeting- and it all happened in a matter of hours. We were out of the building before noon.

I’m convinced that reflection is good for the soul. And that’s mainly why I wanted to write what I’ve written.

I wasn’t interested in writing “6 Reasons I’m Glad I Lost My Job”. Because I wasn’t glad. Have there been some great things that have happened in the last year? Absolutely. But being let go was really hard and really difficult, and even the hindsight of seeing how things worked out doesn’t completely remove the feelings of bewilderment and sadness that I felt.

I wasn’t interested in writing “17 Life Hacks for Getting Back on the Saddle and Finding a New Job”. I do have plenty of thoughts on the job search, which I’m hoping to write about another time, but that wasn’t what I’ve been thinking about for the past year.

What I have been thinking about are three main feelings that have been ebbing and flowing and solidifying in various moments and to varying degrees since March 10, 2015: I’m thankful, I’m sobered, and I’m energized.

1. I’m thankful

Despite how hard it was to lose my job, I’m not angry, or jaded, or hateful, or looking for revenge. I’m thankful for my time at Target.

I’m thankful for my manager, Kevin, for the kind of trust and belief he had in me, even as a brand new employee. He was eager to let me learn by doing, quick to lend a hand where it was needed, and helpful in his correction and criticism.

I’m thankful for my mentor, Vlad, who never acted like he was superior or treated me like an idiot for not knowing something. He was extremely patient and made himself available for questions and help, even when his workload would have been a valid excuse not to.

I’m thankful for all the members of the two teams I was apart of, who from day one helped make me feel at home in my new job, and to whom I owe everything that I learned during my time at Target.

I feel thankful.

2. I’m sobered

Before last year, I assumed (foolishly) that being laid off was something that only happened to people that were a lot older than I was.

What I’ve learned since then is that life is (surprise!) unpredictable and that job security is something that no one, at any age, in any role, can take for granted.

And I use the word “sobered” intentionally. Being laid off was a wake-up call.

It was a reminder that though I know intellectually that life can be hard, it’s easy to live functionally as if those hardships won’t rear their ugly heads as suddenly as this did.

It was a reminder that regardless of what Forrest Gump’s mama told us, navigating life’s difficulties is rarely as easy as throwing away whichever chocolate you don’t like and picking something else.

It was a reminder that what I’m doing today may not be what I’m doing tomorrow and that there’s a special kind of diligence and purpose in the work in front of me that even being laid off can’t render worthless or a waste of time.

I feel sobered.

3. I’m energized

There was something about the opportunity on the other side of job loss that sparked real desire in me.

Desire to explore. Desire to dream. Desire to learn. Desire to make my next steps extremely meaningful.

And while that sounds very nice and cliché, it was a messy process. I was left, on March 11, with 1,000 questions and exactly zero answers.

So, that meant that the next 5 months were a daily battle to dig into questions like:

“What do I want to do with my life?”

“What kind of job do I want to pursue?”

“What am I good at?”

“Can I get another job that I liked as much as this one?”

Eventually, asking (and attempting to answer) those questions led to the realization that I wanted to pursue a job in marketing, something I’d never done before.

Which meant working with Gary to revamp my resume and create a portfolio that showed aptitude for necessary skills (thank you!).

It meant taking online courses and learning anything and everything I could.

It meant meeting with people who were doing marketing and picking their brains about their experience and getting their advice (thank you!).

It meant going to marketing events and being where marketing people were and talking more and asking more questions.

And all of it has created a even deeper, more full energy for what’s ahead.

On the other side of the questions and the confusion and feeling unsure and putting myself out there to try something new wasn’t just a new job, it was a renewed call to purpose and learning and meaningful work.

I feel energized.

One year removed from losing my job, I’m a 24-year-old, 6 months into my first job in a field that I thought I’d never break into- and I’m loving it.