What I Didn’t Expect After Losing My Job
When the job disappeared, something else took shape.
This newsletter is produced independently. If you want to support this work, please consider becoming a paid subscriber or making a one-time contribution. Your support helps keep this reporting and writing going.
About nine months ago, right after I was laid off, a veteran journalist said something that sounded almost scandalous.
“Girl...Fired equals freedom!”
I laughed. I couldn’t imagine actually believing that.
I was two months away from giving birth. I had a high-risk pregnancy and no health insurance. We were selling our cars and hundreds of our belongings just to keep food on the table for my very hungry toddler, who also had strict (expensive) dietary restrictions. The job market was the worst it had been in years. Chronic stress was affecting my body.
Freedom was not the word that came to mind, but I told her her motto probably belonged on a T-shirt.
She didn’t laugh. Instead, she doubled down.
“You now have freedom you didn’t have before,” she said, recounting when she was let go de…



