There’s a first time for everything.
I left a 20-plus-year journalism career last year to explore life in the “real world,” accepting my first non-newsroom job since working the McDonald’s drive-through window in high school. Last week, my new employer broke the news that my next paycheck would be my last. He called it a layoff, blaming anemic sales, but it still felt like a failure.
I’d never been asked to leave a job before, and it stung.
First times can be painful, but what I’ve realized in the past week is that they’re also necessary. Without some important firsts, none of us would be walking or talking, falling in love or following our dreams.
We learn from our firsts, whether it’s how fast to take corners on a bicycle or who to trust with your heart.
The lessons to be gleaned from my first “involuntary separation” remain to be seen, but my unfortunate unemployment does open the door to another, potentially positive first:
For once, I can shrug off the veil of secrecy surrounding job searches when you already have a paying gig.
It also gives me the gift of time, which I plan to use figuring out what I want to be when I grow up—and how to get there.