If you've recently been laid off or if you're staring down a transition that you didn't ask for, you might feel this pressure to be okay, to bounce back quickly, to update your resume, to tell your family and friends"I've got this" to go full speed ahead because slowing down feels like failure, but what if that urge to power through is actually keeping you stuck? What if trying to stay positive too soon isn't strength, but spiritual suppression? Because skipping the grief doesn't save you time. It steals your clarity, and I get it. Grief is messy. It's not what we post about on LinkedIn. No one tells you to honor your heartbreak after a restructure. But you can't build your next success if you're still carrying the silent shame of the last chapter. Today, I wanna talk about the part no one prepares you for. Not the resume or the interview prep or the job boards, but the emotional aftermath, the disorientation. The spiral, the numbness, the identity unraveling that happens when your career gets ripped out from under you. This episode might feel tender. It might feel real. It might feel like someone finally named what you've been trying to carry all by yourself, and that's the point. Because this part, it matters. Have you ever wondered, is this it? That question is the beginning of Your Next Success. this podcast is your space to pause, reflect, and create the career and life you were made for. We explore real stories, intentional transitions, and practical insights to help you step into alignment, purpose and peace. Tune in and begin your next success. let's talk about what you're really going through and how to move through it with power, purpose, and peace. In this episode of your Next Success, we are digging into what happens emotionally after a layoff or a major job transition. Why grief after job loss is real and necessary. The five hidden losses no one warns you about. How unprocessed grief can quietly sabotage your next move. The five stages of grief. Yeah. They show up in careers too. And a powerful reflection that can help you move from confusion to clarity because your worth didn't disappear with your job title and what you feel right now. It isn't weakness, it's the beginning of something new. What if what you're experiencing isn't a breakdown, but a natural necessary step in becoming who you're meant to be next? We tend to think grief only happens when we lose a loved one, but losing a job. Especially one that shaped your routine, your identity, and your sense of purpose. It can hit just as hard. You might think you're not being strong by brushing it off, moving on, staying positive, jumping into job boards the next day. So if you're feeling all over the place, if one day you're hopeful and the next you're spiraling, that's not weakness, it's grief. And understanding it might just give you the power to move through it. Because here's the truth, skipping the grief doesn't save you time. It steals your clarity. Because the pain, the shame, the identity unraveling, it all has something to teach you. You don't need to stay in grief forever, but you do need to walk through it. Today we're talking about the part no one wants to talk about, the emotional aftermath of losing your job, the grief, the fear, the pressure to perform or bounce back immediately. Let's talk about the grief after a layoff and how to come out stronger on the other side. When I was laid off, I expected to feel stressed. What I didn't expect was the identity crisis. I expected to feel worried, maybe even embarrassed. I didn't expect the flood of emotions. I didn't expect to stare at my computer screen for three hours straight, unable to even open a single job board. I didn't expect the brain fog, the shame, or the strange emptiness in the middle of the day. The tension in my chest. I wasn't just unemployed, I felt untethered, and no one talked about that part. Layoffs aren't just logical, they're emotional, and yet we're often encouraged to power through to keep our heads up, to slap on a brave face and send out resumes like nothing happened. People said things like, you'll bounce back. You're so accomplished, you'll be fine. And my personal favorite, this is probably a blessing in disguise. A layoff isn't just a change in employment. It is a rupture. It messes with your sense of self, your rhythm, your security, your story. And unless we name it, unless we honor it, we risk recreating the exact same pain in a different job. So if you've been feeling tired, foggy, unmotivated, embarrassed, angry, jealous, numb. Let me say this clearly. You are not broken. You are grieving, and grief isn't just for death. It's for anything that mattered. Here's the truth. Losing your job can trigger deep grief, and that grief deserves space. Let's walk through what this really looks like so you can stop blaming yourself and start reclaiming yourself and healing. You already know you lost your job, but here are five things you may not have realized you are also grieving. Number one, the loss of identity. You were someone there. You had a role, a title, a clear answer when someone asked, what do you do. Now? It's murky and you may feel invisible. Number two, the loss of routine. Your days had structure, a rhythm, a reason to get up. Now, mornings feel strange. Evenings feel long time stretches in weird ways. Number three, loss of community. Coworkers you saw every day, maybe people who were part of your daily life are suddenly gone. No more casual check-ins, no more. Did you see that email? It's quiet now. Number four, loss of status or safety. Even if your job didn't define your worth, it probably provided security. There's embarrassment, there's uncertainty. Maybe you're wondering what people think or what happens if this lasts longer than you planned. Number five, loss of momentum. You were on a path. Maybe you had goals, a growth plan, a vision for your next move, and now. The GPS is blank. If any of these hit home, it is not just in your head. That disorientation, that sadness, you can't quite name. That's grief and the good news, once we name it, we can start to move through it. Grief isn't just about death, it's about losing anything that mattered, and for a lot of us, our career mattered. Our role, our schedule, our work friendships, the title, the parking spot, the daily routine. It gave us structure and meaning. When that's gone, it is a kind of grief, and yet most people never talk about it. We power through. We tell ourselves to get over it. We apply for 15 jobs to feel productive. We pretend we're fine. But just like any loss, if you never slow down to feel it, you risk carrying it with you in ways you don't even see. I've worked with so many people who took the first job that came next because they wanted to stop feeling so uncomfortable. They wanted relief, but six months later, they were stuck again because they didn't reflect, they didn't heal, they didn't grieve. So if you are feeling unmotivated, confused, ashamed, jealous, angry, numb, tired, foggy, that's not laziness. That's grief, and it makes sense, and you are not alone. You may have heard of the five stages of grief, denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. They were first introduced by psychiatrist Elizabeth Kubler Ross, to describe how terminally ill patients process the reality of death. But these stages also show up in any kind of deep loss, including one where you lose the job, rhythm, identity, and future you thought you had. Let's walk through them, not as a checklist, but as real emotional landscapes that you might find yourself moving through or circling back to at any point. Number one, denial. This can't be happening. You stare at the email, or you replay that conversation in your head. You scroll job boards like a robot, you feel numb or weirdly detached. You might distract yourself with busy work organizing files, or rewriting your resume 12 times, obsessively cleaning the house, or you might do nothing at all. It's all normal. Denial protects your system from the full weight of the reality. It's your mind's way of cushioning the blow. We've been told that denial is avoidance, that it means you're not strong enough to face reality. That if you're still numb, still spinning, still not ready to update LinkedIn, you're somehow doing this wrong. But what if that's a lie? What if denial isn't a sign of weakness, but the intelligence of your nervous system, doing exactly what it was designed to do. To keep you safe. To give you a moment. To create just enough space between the impact and the meaning so that you don't collapse under the weight of it all. See, when the layoff happens, your brain doesn't just receive the news. It experiences a threat. The identity you held, the structure you followed, the security you leaned on, suddenly gone. And in that moment, your body doesn't ask, what's my next step? It asks, am I safe? And if the answer isn't clear, it does the next best thing. It buys you time, it slows everything down. It says not yet. Let's breathe first. That's denial. It's a pause, a holding pattern, a sacred stall that allows your soul to catch up with your circumstances. So if you've been feeling frozen, don't shame yourself. Honor the wisdom behind the stillness. It's not that you're broken, it's that your system is wise. And it knew, you needed a moment to land. The trick, don't unpack and live there, but don't rush the exit either, because once your breath returns, once your footing steadies, you'll move. And when you do, it won't be because someone told you to. It'll be because you're ready not to run, but to rise. What if denial isn't a sign of weakness, but your nervous system trying to keep you safe while you catch your breath? Let it. Just don't stay here forever. Number two, anger. This isn't fair. You trusted them. You gave your best. You made sacrifices, and now you're out. You might rage at the company, your boss, HR or snap at your partner, or you stew in resentment over a coworker who stayed. Anger isn't just about blame. It's often pain in disguise. It says, I cared. Let yourself feel it. Punch a pillow, take a drive, journal. Move it through you. I once worked with a brilliant scientist who screamed into a towel every day for a week after her layoff. Then she started sculpting. That sculpting turned into a side business. The anger became art, and eventually her joy. We've been told to suppress anger, to keep it quiet, to make it polite, to smile and say it's fine. Even when we are screaming inside. But what if that's backwards? What if anger isn't a problem to fix, but a signal that something meaningful was violated? What if your rage isn't irrational, but deeply intelligent? Because anger only shows up when something mattered. It's the emotional flare that says, I gave something here. I cared. I sacrificed, I believed. You don't get angry about things you've never invested in. You don't burn with emotion over things that you never loved. So if you're angry, it means you showed up. You gave your time, your energy, your ideas, your presence, you went all in, and now your system is trying to reconcile. How could they let me go? Why didn't it matter? Where do I put this fire? Here's the truth. Anger is energy. It is passion without a place to land, and it is not a sign that you've lost control. It's a sign that something deep within you still wants to fight for meaning, still wants to create, still wants to matter, but here's the shift. Don't waste that fire burning bridges, use it to forge what's next. Rage. Then write. Cry, then create. Yell into a towel, then sculpt your next chapter from the ashes. Anger doesn't make you unprofessional, it makes you human. And when you channel it, that heat becomes power. Imagine what your life would be like if your career aligned with who you are, what you do best, and actually fueled the life you want. At Next Success, we support all ages and stages through career transitions from students exploring majors or careers to job seekers actively searching or re-imagining their next move to professionals committed to self-awareness and leadership growth. Stay connected and explore what's possible at nextsuccesscareers.com and follow nextsuccessmethod on LinkedIn, YouTube, Instagram, and Facebook. nextsuccesscareers.com You are listening to Your Next Success with Dr. Caroline Sangal. Let's continue the journey to your authentic success. Number three, bargaining. Maybe if I adjust, this is the mental hamster wheel. If I had spoken up more, if I'd worked weekends, if I take a pay cut, maybe they'll rehire me. You rewrite history trying to make it make sense, or you panic apply to anything with a paycheck. What if your worth was never in question? You didn't fail. The system did, or the economics. Or the timing. You are not broken. You're just between chapters. Bargaining is your mind grasping for control. Let it, but don't let it steer. What if bargaining isn't about the past, but your need for control in the present? You replay the scenes, the emails, the choices. If only I'd worked harder. If I hadn't taken that vacation. If I reach out and say the right thing, maybe they'll take me back. This is bargaining and we've been taught it's desperation, that it's weak, that it's stuck in the past. But what if that's not true? What if bargaining isn't really about undoing the past, but trying to make sense of a future that you didn't ask for? Because here's what your brain is doing, it's looking for the exit ramp from uncertainty. It's trying to regain control. It's saying, if I can just find the missing piece, I'll feel safe again. But here's the truth, it's not that you did something wrong, it's that your nervous system is begging for solid ground. You're not weak, you are not naive. You are human. Bargaining is a bridge between what was and what now. It's the part of the story where we still think we can rewrite the last chapter before we realize we are actually holding the pen for the next one. So let yourself question, let yourself wonder, but then ask, what do I really want next? What would it look like to build something that I don't need to beg to belong to? Because you weren't meant to shrink and plead. You were meant to rise and choose. Number four, depression. I can't do this. This is the valley where things feel dark, slow, heavy. You might sleep too much or not at all. You lose track of time. You stop answering texts. You might cry randomly or feel nothing at all. This isn't weakness, it's grief settling in your bones. This low is not the end, it's the clearing. The fog that forces you to slow down, look inward, and prepare for something new. You don't need to fix it. You need to move through it moment by moment. What if this isn't depression, but deep processing that your brain finally has space for. You feel slow, foggy, unmotivated. Like the world is moving and you're underwater watching it happen. You scroll job boards but can't make yourself click apply. You stare at the laundry and it just stays there. You wonder if maybe you're just lazy Now, if maybe this is who you are, but what if that's not it? What if what you're calling depression isn't a sign that you're falling apart, but a signal that your brain is finally safe enough to feel what it couldn't feel before. Because while you were pushing through performing and holding it all together, you nervous system was storing it. And now without the pressure of daily deadlines, without the calendar packed with a back to back meetings, without the mask you wore every day just to keep up. The truth, finally has space to speak. This isn't collapse. It's processing. It is your body doing what it was designed to do when the danger passed. Let the grief out. You don't need to fix yourself. You don't need to hustle your way back to productivity. You just need to be here for a minute to feel it, to honor it, to listen, because this isn't the end, it's the clearing. It's the space before the rebuild, and the fact that it feels heavy, means it mattered. You mattered. Number five, acceptance. It happened, now what. This is when the fog starts to lift, you don't have all the answers, but you're not resisting the truth anymore. You start asking better questions. What kind of work lights me up? What parts of the job were never really me? What does success look like now? A former client of mine said. I didn't just get my old job back. I got myself back. That's acceptance. It's not passive. It's powerful. What if acceptance isn't giving up, but rising into who you are meant to be? We hear the word acceptance and we think it means surrender, resignation, settling for scraps, but that is not it. Acceptance isn't a white flag, it is a turning point. It is the moment you stop wasting energy, wishing the past were different, and start reclaiming your power to shape what happens next. Not because the pain is gone, not because you're suddenly okay with how it all ended, but because you've decided this moment will not define me, I will. Acceptance doesn't mean you liked how it happened. It means you've stopped resisting the truth. And from that place of radical clarity and self-trust, you can begin again. This time more you than ever before. It's not passive, it's not soft. It's one of the fiercest things you'll ever do. To say, I am still here. I'm still breathing, and I get to choose what happens now. That's not giving up, that's becoming. Now, it's important to know these stages aren't linear. They don't come up in order. You might circle back, skip ahead, freeze for a while. That's normal. Grief doesn't follow rules, but it does follow energy. And as long as you keep showing up with curiosity, you're gonna keep moving forward. Now, let's ground this in something tangible. If you're listening to this right now and nodding along, this next piece is for you. When your life shifts suddenly you need a moment to integrate, to connect the dots between who you were and who you're becoming. So here's a powerful, gentle reflection exercise. Take out a sheet of paper. Write a letter to yourself titled then and now. Start with, before the layoff I was... describe your days, what you believed, what you wanted, what you tolerated. Then after the layoff, I feel... let it be raw, honest, messy. And finally going forward, I want... Not what you think you should want. Write what your gut says. Write what your soul whispers when the world goes quiet. It doesn't have to be polished. You do not have to solve it all today, but let yourself see the shift. Honor the whole experience. Name the shift, it gives you back your power. It helps you stop running from the discomfort and start listening to what it's trying to show you. You've been through a lot. Let this be the moment you stop pretending you're fine, and start honoring what's real. Because when you do that, you stop running and start healing. Think about it like this. It is not just a job you lost. It was a relationship, a routine, a rhythm, a version of yourself that had a home. And it ended, but you didn't get to decide when or how. You didn't get closure. You didn't get to choose. That's not just hard. It's haunting. It can feel like a breakup that you didn't see coming. You're standing there holding the pain, the questions, the loose ends. If you had chosen to walk away, it would still sting, but at least you'd have your reasons. You'd have your dignity. But when the decision is made for you, it can feel like betrayal, a rejection, a gut punch. But what if this ending was actually a beginning? Maybe it ended because it wasn't the right fit for you anymore. Maybe it ended because it wasn't right for you anymore. We are taught to chase loyalty, to hold on, to make it work even when the world no longer works for us. So when a job ends not by your choice, it feels like rejection. Like someone ripped away something before you were ready. Like a verdict on your value. But what if life stepped in? Not to punish you, but to protect you. What if you were never meant to stay? What if your spirit had outgrown the space? Your gifts had outpaced the role. And life, kind, fierce, and unflinching stepped in to do what you wouldn't. Maybe the layoff wasn't a detour. Maybe it was a divine course correction. Maybe it ended because staying would've kept you small. What if it's a forced pause so you could see what you stopped seeing. That you were meant for more? That the version of success you built wasn't your version. And what if you can now understand with certainty you were meant for more. You get to choose again. You're not being cast out, you are being called forward. The grief isn't just for what you lost. It's for all the potential that you didn't get to realize there, and maybe, just maybe, you weren't meant to stay, you were meant to grow. And now, you get to choose what you want to explore next. If you're still with me and you are feeling this episode in your bones, here is what I want you to do today. Grab your journal or download the free workbook in the show notes. Answer these prompts. What stages of grief am I currently in? What emotions have I been trying to suppress or ignore? What have I been blaming myself for that might not actually be mine to carry? What would compassion look like for me. Right now. And then ask yourself, what small act of kindness can I offer myself today? Who can I talk to that will really get it? What am I ready to let go of? And what am I open to discovering? You don't need a 12 point plan. You need one small move that says, I'm still here. And I am still becoming. Today we talked about why skipping grief after a layoff doesn't save you time, it steals your clarity. The five hidden losses that most people don't name, but definitely feel the five stages of grief and how they uniquely show up in a career transition. Why emotional overwhelm doesn't mean you're broken. It means something mattered. And we talked about a simple, powerful reflection exercise to begin reclaiming your voice, values and vision. Remember to download the free reflection workbook linked in the show notes. It's gentle, it's structured, and it's here to help you process this moment in a way that builds clarity, not shame. And if you know someone else who's grieving a layoff right now, send them this episode. You never know what sentence might set someone free. And if this is your first time here, this episode is one of a multi-part series: after the layoff, now what? So be sure to check out the other episodes. Be sure to follow, subscribe, whatever you need to do so you can get notified of our content. Because in this season, we are not just fixing resumes, we are rebuilding lives from the inside out. You are not crazy. You are not weak. You are not broken. You are experiencing something very real and very human. This grief, it's the bridge between who you were and who you're becoming. And while it might not feel like it yet, there is another side to this. The anger, the sadness, the numbness, the anxiety, they are all signals that you are waking up. You didn't lose your spark. You're just in the dark part of the tunnel, and even here, you are still moving. So give yourself permission to grieve, to not have the plan yet, to breathe. Because you're not just rebuilding a career, you're remembering who you are. We're gonna start designing what's next, but for now. Take a breath, pause. Be here. Feel what's real and know this is part of the process. You are not done. You're just getting started. Keep going. You're not done yet. Thanks for listening to Your Next Success with Dr. Caroline Sangal. Remember, authentic success is yours to define and includes aligning your career to support the life you want.