Layoffs have a way of shrinking the conversation.

They turn something systemic into something personal. They make people feel like they have somehow failed, when often they are standing inside a much bigger economic and cultural shift that they have little control over.

For those of us who were in the workforce in 2008–2010, or 2020-2021, this moment feels familiar. Not identical, but familiar. We've seen what happens when the ground moves under people all at once. We've seen how quickly confidence can erode, how fast identity can get tangled up with employment, and how a season of disruption can force an entirely new relationship with work. No matter what part of the field you are in — laid off, one of "those who remain," or in a management role — one thing remains constant: layoffs suck.

What we are living through now feels, to me, less like a temporary blip and more like a labor recomposition. Entire functions are being reshaped. Skills that once felt durable suddenly feel exposed. New tools are changing the velocity of work. And reskilling and upskilling are no longer nice-to-haves sitting on some future professional development plan.

I've been thinking a lot about the poster that supposedly hung at the Facebook offices: What would you do if you weren't afraid?

In moments like this, it lands differently. Because sometimes the thing that tethers you gets removed for you. The title. The team. The company. The predictable path. And while that kind of loss is destabilizing, it can also create an unexpected opening. When the thing you built your professional identity around falls away, you are forced to ask deeper questions. What do I actually want? What am I capable of becoming now?

This is part of why it is so interesting to see entrepreneurship on the rise, as Laura Brown pointed out in her latest post. Not because everyone suddenly wants to become a founder, but because moments of disruption often loosen people's grip on the "right" path.

But let's not romanticize layoffs either. A layoff is not just a plot twist in someone's career story. It has immediate, material consequences. People lose healthcare. It impacts themselves and their families very directly. The underlying system does very little to support people through change, even as change becomes one of the defining conditions of modern work.

If you are in it right now, I hope you remember this: your job is not your worth. This moment is not the final word on your talent. And while uncertainty can narrow your field of vision, it can also become a powerful teacher if you let it.

If you are in the position of managing a layoff, please remember: how you do it matters. Even if the decision was not yours, the humanity you bring to that conversation is. Treat people with dignity. Be clear. Be kind. Advocate for real support where you can, especially healthcare continuity, severance, and practical transition help.

Some seasons are about stability. Some are about survival. And some are about becoming.

This may be one of those becoming moments.