layoffs, more of a trend?

One month ago, on September 26, at 9 PM, I vividly remember receiving an email about a skip-level meeting with my boss’s boss’s boss. Since I wasn’t expecting it, I initially thought it would be a routine check-in, so I decided to inform my boss. She had received the same email, and we discussed what to expect, the achievements we should highlight, and the roadblocks we’d been facing.

After a moment, she mentioned that four others from our team had also been sent 1–1 connects. “I need to hold a sync-up to explain this to all of you,” she said. I paused and asked why so many from one team, but she too was clueless.

This organization had a reputation for not laying off employees, and ironically, it still does. So, the thought of layoffs didn’t even cross our minds.

The next day, there was a palpable sense of suspense and quiet on the floor. We, the chosen ones for these 1–1s, felt a strange sense of entitlement, and our peers gathered around us. There were whispers that we might be moving to a new project or receiving some recognition. Since all of us were seniors on the team, we kind of agreed in our hearts, giggled a bit, rehearsed some nice speeches, and just waited. We went about our day until noon.

One of the bosses who also had a 1–1 meeting returned to his desk, looking quiet and distant, staring at his new purple iMac. I approached him and asked, “Hey, what happened? What should we expect?” He replied, “It will be fine,” and made an excuse to leave.

That was the first moment it dawned on me that this might not be all good, but even then, the idea of layoffs was still nowhere in our minds.

Moments later, we received a ping from my boss on the common channel, stating that something had come up and she was leaving for the day. She cancelled all her meetings, which made things increasingly suspicious, but I still held on to the hope that everything was fine.

Then it was time for our meetings to begin. The first of us went in, and we waited anxiously. When it was my turn, I noticed the first person hadn’t returned yet, but I decided to proceed anyway. Just as I was about to enter the meeting room, I ran into him in the hallway. Tears filled his eyes, and his voice trembled as he said, “It’s a layoff.” I took a deep breath and stepped inside.

I don’t remember much of my meeting. I was just staring at the regional head, who was praising my contributions while discussing priorities, mergers, and some other jargon. Next to him sat an HR representative, chiming in about the support and remuneration I would be eligible for. They both took pride in saying they had done their best to find roles for everyone, but given my experience, they felt I knew best how to navigate my career moving forward.

I learned that we were not getting laid off immediately and were given a 1 month notice period to find the job internally or leave after a month!

I could only ask: “What happens next? How are so many of us supposed to find internal jobs in one month?” There was no specific answer, just a few more platitudes that I’d rather forget.

In the hours that followed, we tried to cope with the situation by sharing jokes among ourselves. Our peers, some of whom had been moved to other teams, expressed their sympathy for us. We were a group of ten from my team — both managers and individual contributors — who were impacted by this news.

What was difficult was sitting alone, looking at my laptop and pondering what to do with it. I picked up my bag and left for home. I remember crying my heart out after reaching home and finding courage in my family.

What followed in the next month is something I cannot forget; none of us can. We applied for internal openings and faced repeated rejections. When we looked outside, we quickly realized that the process could take much longer. We met every day and discussed our frustrations. At home, It was all about revisiting data structures and operating systems and preparing for interviews.

Slowly, week by week, each one of us cracked internal openings :) We are in separate teams now, getting on with new work.

But do I have the same respect for this company? No!
Do I take pride in working here like I used to? No!
Am I still working hard and thriving in my new team? Yes!
Have I regained my confidence? Slowly getting there!
Do people whisper about what happened to me and why I’m in a new team? Yes!
Will I jump ship at the first opportunity? Yes!

Many might think that I only faced one month of uncertainty, while thousands are still struggling to find jobs after a sudden layoff. But the experience has changed me, and the scars run deep. I’m naturally an optimistic and confident person, but this incident has shaken that foundation, and I don’t know when my old self will return.

This layoff, I feel, was part of a troubling trend and was executed badly. The company undeniably lost my trust in the process.

Now, as I burn the midnight oil for work, I constantly remind myself of these lessons. While I can’t change my nature, I’m clear on a few things:

Value my worth: I won’t let my self-esteem be dictated by an organization.
Prioritize my growth: I’ll seek opportunities that align with my values and aspirations.
Stay connected: I’ll nurture relationships with those who uplift and inspire me.

This experience has reshaped my perspective, but it won’t define my future. I’m committed to reclaiming my confidence and finding fulfilment, no matter where that journey leads me.