Layoffs, Livelihoods, and the Cost of Being Human
When I first joined my last company, I was burned out. My creativity was gone. My motivation depleted. But something about the team I met during the interview process gave me energy. There was momentum. Passion. A spark. I wanted in.
I remember telling my friends in tech how excited I was to be somewhere that felt like it was making a real difference. “That company is job-market proof,” they said.
Well, three years, four rounds of layoffs, and now a business closure later—I’ve learned that no company is immune.
The geopolitics. The economy. The rise of AI. It’s all connected. We’re all connected. And when you get laid off, there’s a glitch in your personal matrix. On paper, the business case may be clean: headcount is cost. Money in needs to be higher than money out.
But heads are humans. And behind every “eliminated role” is a family, a community, a person trying to stay afloat.
Let me be clear: this isn’t about politics. It’s about the reality of losing your livelihood in America.
Lose your job? You still need to:
Source and pay for your own healthcare, fast.
Cover rent, mortgage, groceries, phone, gas, and everything in between.
Figure out a confusing benefits system that often provides less than survival income (CA caps unemployment at $450/week for 6 months).
And if you have kids? Add in school, clothing, food, and emotional labor.
And that’s just the financial cost. There’s also the emotional toll:
Your identity is rocked.
Your lifestyle, convenience, and comfort vanish overnight.
You go from stable to survival mode in a blink.
Then comes the job search. You apply to roles asking for 10+ years of experience in one niche area—even though you’ve worn 20 hats for the last three years.
You’re overqualified. Underpaid. Desperate. Exhausted. And still showing up every day, trying to prove your worth in a broken system.
Wouldn’t it be better if:
Unemployment matched your income and career stage?
You had breathing room to find the right job, not just the next one?
You didn’t have to choose between rent and rest, health and hope?
I believe things will work out. I really do. But I also believe we can do better.
Maybe this is political. Or maybe it’s just human.
Because behind every layoff is a person. And they deserve more than a polite email and a good luck.