I knew it was coming. It still hurt.
I was made redundant on the last day of April this year after another company acquired the one I worked for and, apparently, slashed the marketing department’s budget. So bye bye to many of my colleagues and to me.
Having spent most of my life in the United States, I didn’t expect the UK redundancy process to be so formal. I also didn’t expect losing my job to shake my confidence as much as it did.
While this wasn’t the worst thing that has ever happened in my life, professionally, it ranks right up there at the top.
Although I’m very disappointed by what happened, I’m not going to talk about the company I worked for or the people I worked with. All I will say is that my colleagues were amazing and I believed in the product the company created. Acquisitions happen, and it’s an unfortunate fact of life that when they do, not everyone survives the cut.
Instead, I want to talk about what the UK redundancy process looks like to someone who grew up in the US, the emotions that come with losing your job and the difficulties of finding work in the current job market.
I Should Have Seen It Coming
I’ve been pretty lucky throughout my working life. Up until this year, I’d never been laid off, made redundant or fired. I’ve left jobs for various reasons, but for the most part, it’s been my choice to leave, and very rarely have I left without a backup position waiting in the wings.
This time was different.
In reality, I could have been more active ahead of time in looking for another job. The acquisition didn’t just fall from the sky. We were told about it at the very end of December. I watched as several colleagues jumped ship over the following three months and even started paying closer attention to LinkedIn jobs.
Honestly, I don’t know what I was thinking. Deep in my gut, I knew my job was coming to an end. I’m old enough to know that employees at a company being acquired rarely fare well. And I was under no impression that I would be special.
Or was I?
I spent months worrying but still conducting “business as usual” — the phrase that was bandied about in any discussion of the acquisition.
I even lobbied, along with my supervisor, to conduct a survey to follow up on a very successful report we had done two years earlier. Once I took the lead on the project, I worked hard to make sure it was going to be perfect. That included nagging the finance people for approval on the pittance we needed to spend on the survey.
This survey and report were going to prove that I was worth keeping. It was going to show my value to what would become the new owners. While I don’t believe any employee is seen as indispensable, maybe I could be hard to replace.
The irony was that we finally got the data from the survey we needed to proceed with the report about two days before the acquisition was finalised.
A week later, I was in my first of three meetings with Human Resources discussing the redundancy process.
What the UK Redundancy Process Was Like
Having lived the majority of my life in the United States, I was not prepared for the process that is redundancy in the UK.
And it is a process.
I can’t discuss the nitty-gritty of my redundancy, but I can explain what the process looked like for me.
It started with that first meeting. They scheduled the Teams call for about two hours after I received a letter stating that my position was no longer needed.
Let me tell you, no matter how prepared you are to hear that you will be made redundant — and I had the entire four-day Easter holiday weekend to prepare — it’s still difficult to hear that you are no longer needed.
Because you don’t see it as the position. You see it far more personally.
It’s you they don’t want or find necessary.
In that initial meeting, I was advised to check out the acquiring company’s website and see if there was a position available that I’d like to put my name forward for.
There wasn’t.
Of course there wasn’t, because if there had been, they probably wouldn’t have been going through this process.
The next two meetings, held over a two-week period, were basically me asking whether I could make a case for my position. I had some fight in me despite the overwhelming gloom and doom taking over.
In the end, I didn’t make my case. It felt futile.
While my supervisor tried, I’m sure it fell on deaf ears. I will always appreciate that he tried when no one else above him seemed to care.
In the end, I was informed of my offer. I was also told that I had to hire a solicitor to represent me in this final part of the process. The solicitor was paid for by the company. She went over the finer details of the offer line by line to make sure I was happy with it.
This was the part I was confused about at the time but came to appreciate in hindsight. While my offer was perfectly acceptable, I can see how having a solicitor could be helpful for someone going through a trickier redundancy.
My last day was 30 April.
The whole process took just under a month. But to be completely honest, I checked out of my duties well before that.
I tried to continue doing my job during the process, but it was difficult. In my eyes, I had been told I was no longer needed or wanted. Yet, I was expected to carry on trying to write that report that was going to prove my worth.
I’m a little ashamed to say I didn’t do it. I couldn’t do it. Instead, I left it for my boss to finish even though he had his own crap to deal with.
I wish I had been a better person in that moment.
What Surprised Me About Redundancy in the UK
The biggest surprise for me was how formal the whole thing felt.
Coming from the US, I think I had a much simpler picture in my head of what losing a job looked like. Your employer tells you they’re letting you go, you pack up your things and that’s that.
This was different.
There were meetings. There was a consultation period. I was encouraged to look for another role within the acquiring company. There was paperwork. There was a solicitor.
Some of that felt strange while I was going through it, especially because I already knew where the whole thing was heading.
But looking back, I can appreciate why those steps exist.
Losing your job is hard enough. Having a process that at least attempts to make sure you understand what is happening and what you are agreeing to is not necessarily a bad thing.
Making the Most of Unemployment
In the past few months, I’ve been dealing with a whole range of emotions. Of course, this isn’t unique to me. I imagine anyone who suddenly finds themselves jobless cycles through anger, sadness, hopefulness and pessimism, to name a few.
Sometimes these emotions hit all at once or in quick succession.
Once I stopped seething and crying simultaneously, I started looking for the bright side.
The fact that I was likely to be out of work for a while meant maybe I could focus on some of the things I wanted to do while searching for a new job.
Maybe I’d bake more or make a better effort at cooking dinners. Summer was coming, so I could work on planting some flowers and growing tomatoes.
I could start learning more. That Coursera subscription I had purchased in December to learn Canva, as another effort to show my worth to my employer, was just sitting there waiting for my attention.
Oh, and I could spend more time with my friends.
The reality turned out rather differently.
I baked a couple of batches of cupcakes and some vegan Mexican wedding cookies before the first of five heatwaves hit the UK.
That same heatwave murdered the tomato plants I was tending in our little greenhouse, along with the marigolds I was preparing to plant.
I have managed to make a few dinners and have become quite creative when it comes to making huge cold bean and quinoa salads for my partner to bring to work for lunch.
But, to be honest, having more time hasn’t made me enjoy cooking dinner any more than I did when I was working.
As for those friends I was going to spend more time with, not once have I tried to meet up with them. It’s been stupidly hot all summer, and I fear I might not be fun to be around.
On the bright side, I did finish a six-course specialisation in Canva, started learning more about SEO and have been using what I learned to optimise this website for search.
I’ve written a lot more and signed up for the second year of the MA in Creative Writing I postponed last year.
Job Hunting After Redundancy
Let’s not forget the job search.
I’ve applied for more jobs than I think I have ever applied for in my entire life combined.
Although I’m ambivalent about AI, ChatGPT has helped me tailor my CV for each of those jobs. Having worked in B2B marketing for nearly a decade, I know the perceived value of personalisation. I also know that CVs often get filtered through AI on the employer’s end, so I might as well use AI to focus on keywords and other details while also highlighting my legitimate skills to fit each position.
Since May, I’ve had five initial interviews. Not once have I made it past the next stage.
There were a couple of interviews where I signed off knowing I wasn’t going any further, but there were also a couple where I thought I might have a chance, and one in particular that I really wanted. Strangely, that was the same one that was paying about half of what I was making previously.
The Slow Erosion of Confidence
I fear that the rejection is taking its toll.
I spend a lot of time questioning whether I’m actually qualified for the positions I’m applying for. Maybe those 10-ish years of writing various forms of marketing content didn’t teach me anything.
Clearly, I’m not that great. Not valuable enough to keep in my old position and not impressive enough to make it to a second interview.
It’s gotten to the point where I look at job descriptions and think, “Nah, they won’t want me.”
Bit by bit, I feel like what little self-worth I had accumulated over the years has crumbled away. Instead, self-doubt and fear have settled into my brain. They feed on each other, especially at 2am when they convince me that I won’t ever find a job again.
There is another factor that adds to this self-pity. I’m in my mid-50s.
I’m not ready to start blaming my age for the lack of a second interview or for why companies aren’t pounding at my door wanting to hire me, but it is a factor I have no choice but to consider.
The perception that someone my age can’t keep up with changes in technology or be of any value to a company is real.
It’s wrong, but it’s real.
What I Can Control
Let’s not leave this on a low note. Despite the pessimism I currently feel, I’m trying to find ways to fight it.
The fact is, I have very little control over who decides to hire me. I can present myself as a qualified candidate with years of experience and a track record of learning what I need to learn to excel in a position, but in the end, it’s up to someone else to decide whether they want to take a chance on me.
What I can control is what I do in the meantime.
I can choose to not curl up in a ball and do nothing all day — although there have been a couple of days when I’ve done just that. I can spend my time strengthening my skills while also making time for the things I love.
My job did suck a lot of my creativity and time away, so it’s been nice to write my own stuff for a change.
It’s also been strangely fun to watch my website get more views since I’ve become more mindful of the content I create.
Oh, and I posted my first TikTok video, because these days content means more than just writing.
I don’t know what will happen next. Hopefully the stars will align and I’ll find a company that appreciates what I have to offer and that I’m excited to work for.
Until then, I’ll keep applying. I’ll keep learning. And, maybe most importantly, I’ll keep making things that remind me I still have something to offer.
