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When You Lose the Job, But Find Yourself

The email.
The meeting.
The moment your world tilts just slightly off-centre and someone tells you gently or not “We’re letting you go.”

If you’ve ever lost your job, you know the feeling.
It’s not just financial. It’s emotional, practical, and deeply personal.
Who am I without that role, that team, that title?
What do I tell people? What do I do now?

I’ve been on both sides of the table.
I’ve delivered the news. I’ve received it.
I’ve supported hundreds of people as they picked themselves up and started again — and I’ve had to do the same, quietly, with my own heart in pieces.

And here’s what I want you to hear, right now, if you’re in it:

This is not the end.
Not of your career.
Not of your worth.
Not of your future.
This is a beginning.
One that might feel awful before it feels meaningful.

Losing your job is a form of grief.
Even if you saw it coming.
Even if you didn’t like it anymore.
Even if you told yourself it didn’t matter that much.

Because a job can give you:
• Structure
• Identity
• Purpose
• A sense of being needed
• A rhythm to your day, your week, your life

When that’s taken away, it’s normal to feel unmoored. Angry. Ashamed. Scared.

But slowly, something else starts to rise.
You begin asking different questions.
Not just “What’s next?” but:
• What do I want my life to feel like?
• What would it mean to work in a way that doesn’t hurt me?
• What do I have to offer beyond a job title?

And this is where your clarity begins.


I’ve worked with so many women who’ve faced this moment.
Some landed roles that aligned more deeply than anything before.
Some started their own businesses.
Some took time to truly rest for the first time in years.

Nearly all of them said a version of this:
“I wouldn’t have chosen it, but I’m so grateful it happened.”

Because once the shock softens, the space opens.
Not all at once.
Not neatly.
But enough to let you remember who you are without the performance.
Enough to build something real.

So if you’ve lost your job, or it’s on the horizon, here’s what I want you to know:

• You are not your job. You never were.
• You are allowed to grieve, pause, and reimagine.
• You are allowed to choose differently with wisdom, softness, and courage.

This isn’t about bouncing back.
It’s about building forward.
Let the pause become a portal.
Sit still.
Breathe.
Then, slowly, choose what to weave next.

And if you need a hand, I’m here.

With warmth, belief, and no rush,

Kate 




Eye-level view of a serene coaching session in nature
When You Lose the Job, But Find Yourself


 
 
 

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