Simply Irene

When I lost my job, I wasn’t scared.

I was tired.

Not surface-level tired, but the kind of exhaustion that settles deep into your bones—the kind that comes from giving everything you have to a company that never respected you in the first place.

For three years, I poured myself into a workplace that drained me. So when it ended, I didn’t panic. I didn’t spiral. I felt relief.

Relief that I didn’t have to walk into that building anymore.
Relief that I didn’t have to see certain faces or endure watchful, judging eyes.
Relief that I no longer had to shrink myself just to survive the day.

For the first time in a long time, I could breathe again.

Unemployment Isn’t Always a Breakdown — Sometimes It’s a Return

There’s a space that exists between sudden endings and unexpected beginnings.

In that space, I found myself.

People talk about unemployment like it’s a pause on life, but for me, it wasn’t. I didn’t stop being productive—I just stopped pouring my energy into something that was actively harming me.

Instead, I poured into myself.

I slowed down.
I took long walks in the fall air.
I embraced quiet mornings.
I created. I crafted. I rested.

I remembered what it feels like to live a life centered on purpose, not survival.

The Truth About Being Unemployed in This Economy

I know this may sound strange, especially in today’s economy and political climate, but being unemployed hasn’t been the hardest part for me.

The hardest part is knowing this season has an expiration date.

I know I will eventually return to structure. To someone else’s schedule. Someone else’s expectations.

And that part scares me—not because I don’t want to work. I actually enjoy working. Purpose drives me. Contribution matters to me.

I’ve been applying to jobs nearly every day. I built a job search system that works. I’ve been interviewing frequently, and the results have been promising.

What I fear isn’t work.

It’s losing my soul again.

Protecting the Version of Me I Found

I want to protect this version of myself.

The one who moves slower.
Breathes deeper.
Remembers she is a human first—always.

I’ve stayed in touch with former coworkers, both those still there and those who were discarded just like I was. Not for gossip, but out of care. We survived something together.

Listening to them describe how things have gotten worse—the growing disrespect, the louder toxicity—confirmed what I already knew:

That company will never change.

But I did.

Because once you know peace, you can never pretend chaos is normal again.

What That Job Taught Me — and What I Refuse to Repeat

That experience taught me exactly what I will never recreate in my life.

I refuse to speak to people the way I was spoken to.
I refuse to glorify abuse and call it dedication.
I refuse to make people feel disposable.

From now on, in every space I lead or contribute to, people will feel seen.
They will feel respected.
They will know they matter.

Because I know what it feels like to give everything and still be invisible—and I will never be the reason someone else feels that way.

Meeting Yourself Again During Unemployment

When you’re unemployed, there’s no routine to hide in.

You meet yourself again.

I get to choose how I spend my days.
I get to trust my own decisions.

And somewhere in that quiet, I realized something important:
I actually like myself. A lot.

During this time, I didn’t numb out.
I didn’t drink.
I didn’t rely on substances.

I did spend money—but not to escape.

I spent it to root myself.

I made my home warm and soft enough to carry me through winter. Candles. Thick blankets. New art. A space that feels safe and nurturing.

That is my self-care.

The Standards I’m Bringing Into My Next Job

When I step into my next role, I will not come in small.

I will expect respect.
I will expect fair pay.
I will expect humanity.

I will advocate for my needs.
I will require benefits that support a real life.
I will choose environments that do not demand I disappear in order to succeed.

And if a company ever treats me beneath those standards?

I will leave.

Because I know my worth now.
And I know what I’m capable of.

I am no one’s corporate punching bag.

This Wasn’t a Setback — It Was a Return

Looking back, unemployment wasn’t a setback for me.

It was a return.

A return to my peace.
To my voice.
To myself.

I didn’t fall apart.

I am rebuilding—quietly, intentionally, slowly, and with purpose.

And that kind of rebuilding lasts.

-Irene