I handed in my badge with no hugs, no cake, and no plan — and it changed everything.
I didn’t expect balloons.
But I also didn’t expect silence.
Last summer, I sat in an online meeting that quietly dismantled the life I thought I was building.
It was structured. Professional. Efficient. There was talk of “hard decisions,” budget shifts, and organizational restructuring. Yet, no personalization, acknowledgment of individual contributions, or even names, just positions cut.
Then came the resources, resume workshops, sessions with human resources, and guidance on how to position ourselves for the next opportunity. For jobs. But what jobs?
There was no transfer, no bridge, no clear next destination. It felt like we were placed on a train with a one-way ticket to somewhere…the destination unstated, the route undefined.
Then the day came when I returned my equipment, no hugs, no cake, no send-off. Just a silent exit.
I handed my laptop and badge to someone I didn’t know, someone who was probably relieved they weren’t in my position. There was no indication whether the work I cared about would live on. No assurance that the systems I built or the passion I poured into projects would continue.
And honestly, it felt dreadful.
What unsettled me most wasn’t just losing the job. It was how quickly it all became irrelevant. In government, decisions are long and drawn out. Ideas move through layers of approval. Momentum builds cautiously under policy, precedent, and careful language. Meetings stretch. Timelines extend. Creativity is filtered.
Yet when it came to light that my position, along with dozens and dozens of others, was being eliminated, the decision felt swift. Even if it had been calculated and strategic behind closed doors, we were halted mid-project, mid-passion, mid-momentum.
One day we were building. The next day we were done.
That was the moment the illusion cracked.
I shared related thoughts in We Are Socially Hungover….
This reminds me of something I wrote about in Be a Catalyst!.
For more on this, see Run the Extra Mile.
I dig deeper into this topic in My Top 3 Favorite Hikes (Thus Far!).
I had believed that loyalty and hard work created security. That if you contributed thoughtfully enough and stayed disciplined enough, the system would hold you in return.
It doesn’t.
Institutions are built to preserve themselves. And once I accepted that, a more uncomfortable and liberating question surfaced:
What if the energy I poured into that institution had been invested in something I owned?
What if the strategic thinking, the late nights, the relationship-building, the creativity, the persistence …what if all of that had been compounding under my name instead of dissolving into bureaucracy?
That question changed everything.
Because when you begin building something of your own, you quickly realize how differently momentum works. In business, especially when you are the decision-maker, speed is often an advantage. You don’t wait six months for permission. You don’t route every idea through layers of approval. You test. You move. You adjust. You act while the energy is alive.
And in that environment, creativity becomes oxygen.
It expands instead of suffocates. A coffee meeting becomes a collaboration. A small idea becomes an event. A conversation becomes a new venture. You begin to see possibility everywhere — not as obligation, but as invitation.
Something shifts internally when you move from compliance to creation. Your energy changes. You feel sharper, more awake, more decisive. And people respond to that. They lean in. They want to build alongside someone who is moving.
Starting your own business is not easy. There is uncertainty and really quiet days. There is no guaranteed paycheck arriving every two weeks. But every action compounds and every relationship you build outside a title compounds. Every risk you take builds something that belongs to you.
The greatest lesson I learned is this: never let your identity live solely inside your job. If your entire world exists within one institution, it disappears the moment your position does. Build relationships beyond it. Create beyond it. Think beyond it.
Being laid off forced me onto that one-way train without a map.
At the time, it felt dreadful.
Now, I see it as an invitation, to stop waiting for stability and start building ownership, to stop asking for permission and start acting, to live not in the illusion of security but in the clarity of purpose.
I handed in my badge with no hugs, no cake, and no plan.
And it changed everything.