This First Person column is the experience of Tanya Unger, who lives in Victoria. For more information about CBC’s First Person stories, please see the FAQ.
When I was laid off from my job, my severance package included sessions with a career transitions coach. She was like my personal cheerleader — encouraging me to visualize the type of job I wanted, to be kind to myself and to have faith in my skills and experience.
I, however, felt I had just been dragged through the mud behind a big semi.
So when she suggested that for homework I process my emotions by writing them down, I spewed pages of angry words. I was surprised at how exasperated I felt.
I asked myself: “Is this a cosmic joke?” I thought about prioritizing costs: wine or cheese? Obviously wine. Dentist appointment for me or vaccine for my immunocompromised rescue cat? Obviously the cat vaccine. Hair colour appointment or oil change for the car? Lucky for the car, the new white streaks in my hair blend in quite well with my blond highlights.
Six months earlier, I was a human resources specialist and had just turned 50. I used to be a stay-at-home mom and a part-time piano teacher, but after my divorce, I found a full-time job in health-care administration. I was proud to finally stand on my own two feet. I didn’t think for a second that my 13-year career in administration roles would end so dramatically.
Every morning I wake up with anxiety spreading through my stomach and I have to walk or work it off at the gym. My daughter is living with me to save money while in university. I’m responsible for providing a roof over our heads and also paying the monthly mortgage, strata fee, utilities and grocery bills. Most of these costs increased in 2024. I imagine the worst-case scenario is that I can’t afford to keep my small townhouse when my mortgage rate is up for renewal in 2025.
The job search hasn’t been easy.
I feel real fear about finding a decent job and doubts creep in. Is ageism a factor? Will I be passed over, despite my credentials and years of experience, for candidates who are younger? Will I have any chance in a competitive job market when applying to a company as an outside hire over an internal candidate? Will I be labelled as a risk because I was laid off?
When I receive confirmation about an upcoming job interview, I dance around the room with excitement. I channel my energy into completing assessments and studying for interviews, and the process takes weeks or even months to get through. But when the offer doesn’t materialize or I don’t make it to the next stage of the interview, I feel my confidence fizzle like a slowly deflating balloon.
One time I submitted an assessment that I spent hours writing only to be told the competition was cancelled due to the organization’s shift in priorities. I was so frustrated with the waste of my efforts that I wanted to throw my laptop out the window. I don’t like the remote video interviews that often feel impersonal compared to meeting in-person, as I find it hard to gauge reactions to my answers. I begged forgiveness during one video interview when my cat Calli meowed persistently and dropped her toy at my feet until I had to throw it in a game of fetch. I neither received an offer from that company nor did it respond to my request for feedback on my performance. I felt ghosted.
The upside of being laid off
As the months dragged on, I’ve also realized I’m not alone. While I felt the weight of my layoff, my community was there for me after I opened up to them.
When I finally made it to the gym, my friends asked me why I wasn’t there at my usual workout time. I was hesitant to share the news of my layoff because I felt ashamed.
But I was also surprised when they shared stories of their layoffs later in their careers. I receive support and encouragement every time after an interview:
“Hang in there” or a “You’ve got this.”
Until this chapter in my life, I didn’t ask my daughter to contribute financially to our living expenses, but I realized that is no longer realistic. When I explained that my situation had changed, she stepped up to pay towards monthly expenses. We agreed on a reasonable plan that aligns with her paycheque when she works more hours in the summer months. Our relationship is transitioning into the next phase — from mother-daughter to friends as we work together with a common goal rather than me carrying all the burden. I’m proud of her.
I’ve tried to keep a brave face in front of my parents. They have helped me many times in my journey as a single mom, and I wanted to solve this dilemma on my own. But I finally broke down in tears on one of our calls. I told them I felt the pressure affecting my success in interviews with financial reality looming in the background. That was when I hit emotional rock bottom. My parents said they wanted to help alleviate the pressure and offered a safety net while I looked for my next opportunity. As I was on the verge of more tears, my dad said that was enough crying, it would all be OK.
And as much as I remain worried about my financial future, I try to see what the hidden opportunity might be from my layoff: Maybe it was my chance to once again embrace my creative side and to do something I never had time to explore. So that’s why on a recent night, while feeling particularly aggravated about my situation, I decided to channel my emotions, be brave, dig deep and start writing my story.
I reminded myself that I am a seasoned survivor of life’s twists and turns, and underneath all my angst, I am stubborn and will persevere until I find where I am meant to land. I believe everything happens for a reason, and although my belief has been greatly challenged, the well-known saying is true: “When one door closes, another one opens.”
Do you have a compelling personal story that can bring understanding or help others? We want to hear from you. Here’s more info on how to pitch to us.