what i did when i got made redundant
and a few things that might help you, if you find yourself in the same situation
redundant: adjective | not or no longer needed or useful; superfluous.
In the end, it was an email that sealed my fate at (or no longer at) that company.
The subject line said: Potential Changes. The body copy showed a proposed organisation structure that did not have my role in it – and that I would not need to come into the office while these changes were confirmed. If confirmed, I would not need to work my notice period either, and would instead be paid for it. Already, these felt like probable changes, not potential ones. There was, however, a call to action in this email that invited me to apply for any of current live roles if relevant. And while I can do many things, I didn’t feel like my skillset was one that could successfully nail the Warehouse Planner role that was on offer.
Before I go into anything else, I’m going to tell you that in my case, I was completely and utterly inexplicably overjoyed to read the email that said my job was now superfluous to the company’s needs. I know that it many cases, redundancy is gut-wrenching, anxiety-inducing and completely awful. It can feel like a complete waste of the energy you’ve put into a job. It can feel like a loss of family-like bonds. It can feel like your world is ending. I am aware of how fortunate I am, in many ways, to have felt relieved at my own redundancy – but I wanted to share my experience in case it was useful to anyone else going through the same thing.
When the email arrived, I was still lying in bed at 10:30 in the morning because it was the second Thursday of the two weeks that I’d had signed off work for stress and burnout. Not two weeks earlier, I’d had a breakdown in the office and went home, unbeknownst to me at that time, never to return. On the Sunday, my husband (then-fiancé!) and I had a Serious Life Conversation™ where we’d decided the best decision for me would be to quit my job. It was taking more out of me than it was giving to me and by the end, thanks to numerous changes (many unclear) in strategic direction, I was describing my job as being ‘like a mock exam’. I was pitching things, outlining processes, crafting campaigns – all of which seemed to be going nowhere. It just all felt pointless and completely without purpose, which is the opposite of what gets me out of bed in the morning. I was miserable, exhausted and feeling like shit – and it was cascading into all other other parts of my life too.
So, I’d decided to quit. I worked out how much holiday leave I had left, how I’d time it all so that my last day would be a week before we ran off the Vegas to get married and how I’d see out my three month notice period in the least stressful setup possible, while also figuring out how to set myself up as a freelancer again. I put a date in my (personal) calendar to resign on Monday 15th May. On Thursday 11th May, four days earlier, the Potential Changes email arrived and upon reading its contents, I leapt out of bed and shrieked with joy. I had somehow managed to leave my job without the arduous process of resigning, dealing with HR and working a three month notice period. I just couldn’t believe my luck.
Not everyone will react to a redundancy in this way. My existing unhappiness at work meant that news was a total relief for me. But the Potential Changes email outlined several other roles that would be affected (I should also note that this was the fourth round of redundancies to take place at that company within the space of a year, and even more have occurred since) and many of those people were absolutely devastated to lose their jobs. To many people (myself in past jobs included), a job can be a place to create friends for life, significant purpose and a lot of daily joy. And so for those people, I know that redundancy comes with a whole wave of tricky emotions to navigate – as well as the giant task of figuring out how you’re going to pay the bills beyond your payout.
My length of service at the company meant that I had three months of pay (my notice period) plus 10 days’ worth of unused holiday days that would form my redundancy payment. As a historically very-bad-with-money person, I forced myself to put it all into savings the MINUTE it landed in my bank account and decided that for the next few months, I would pay myself on my usual payday – but give myself a pay cut to the absolutely bare minimum needed to cover all my bills and outgoings. I was determined to stretch this payment out for as long as possible, to give myself time to process all the nonsense that had left me feeling so useless and unconfident, and time to figure out how the next work decision I made could be one that was well-thought-out and ultimately, a good move that was right for my career and for my overall happiness. In the end, I stretched the payment out for four months – just enough time to see me through a summer of spending quality time with family in Wales, spending quality time with friends and old colleagues on boozy lunches across London, getting married, racing through the Couch-to-5k programme, going on a few pre-planned, pre-paid-for, pre-redundancy trips, finally getting round to selling a load of old clothes on Vinted and doing a lot of writing. It actually got to the point where I didn’t know how I’d actually had time for a full time job before.
If you’ve been reading this newsletter for a while, you’ll know that my redundancy story ended happily ever after with getting a totally dreamy creative job as Global Head of Creative at Tony’s Chocolonely – which brought me to live in Amsterdam. It still feels too good to be true, really. The job is a maternity cover on a contract that ends in April next year, and I knew about the job because I’d been talking to
(whose job it usually is!) for a few months every two weeks to exchange thoughts, advice and experiences on our creative leadership roles. On one of our calls, I’d told her I’d been thinking about leaving my job and going freelance again. Emma told me she was looking for her maternity cover and that she thought I should apply. At first, I sort of laughed it off. First of all, my confidence had gone through the floor, and I just didn’t believe I could do the job (despite it being the same job as the job I’d been doing for over a year). And I couldn’t move to Amsterdam, could I? And our whole lives were in London, weren’t they? And I wanted to go freelance again, didn’t I?But a week or so later, I had no job and a blank canvas on which to paint a new career and with it, maybe even a new life. It had forced Jonny and I to finally seriously consider some life options that we’d been half-talking about for months. We were about to run off to Vegas and we were in desperate need of a change of scene from London when we returned. We’d talked very seriously about whether, if I was freelancing again, we could move to Lisbon for a few months. But, Jonny kept asking, if we were going to leave London anyway, why wouldn’t I just apply for the Tony’s Chocolonely job anyway? I was still adamant that I wasn’t good enough.
Over a very boozy lunch with my (very brilliant) boss who had been (very foolishly) made redundant too, we discussed our options for our next steps. I told her about this job but told her I didn’t think I’d apply. I told her I didn’t think I was cut out for it anymore. She told me off for letting our bad shared experiences potentially spoil future good ones and spelled out just how good of an opportunity this was – to apply for a job that offered a much-needed adventure and escape with it, too. ‘You’d be mad not to apply,’ she said, taking another sip of our fifth round of margaritas.
I sorted out my CV (which didn’t take long, because I always keep it up to date – you never know when you might need it) and applied for the job. They’d already had hundreds of applicants and were already in the interview stages. I spent the next week on tough interviews with tasks, scenarios and rounds of questions with various teams. And then somehow, a few weeks later, they offered me the job, a visa – and one for my soon-to-be new husband, too.
There was a big lesson for me in all of this that I’d love for you to learn too. Keeping your eyes and ears open to new opportunities is important. Networking is important. Always being ready for the next thing is important. You just never know when you might really need to find a job instead of wanting to look for a job. Always be connecting. Always be talking. Always have a plan B tucked away in the back of your brain. You never know who might just be waiting to hire you.
Had I not been made redundant, I wouldn’t have (and couldn’t have, thanks Brexit) moved to Amsterdam. For me, redundancy was not a devastating loss but instead, an opportunity that allowed me to afford to take the time to look at my life around me and figure out what was no longer making me happy and what needed to change. It also reminded me that no matter what job you do, at the end of the day that job is often reduced down to a number on a balance sheet. I’ve been a firm believer in ‘what’s meant for you won’t pass you by’, and if I ever needed proof to back that up – this experience was absolutely it.
FREQUENTLY FRANTICALLY ASKED QUESTIONS
Disclaimer: The below questions are things I was frantically googling after getting over the initial joy I had of not needing to return to my job. The answers are based on my experience and conversations with others who’ve been through redundancy. The Gov.UK website is the best place to find all the info you need on exactly what’s going on, what’s going to happen and what you should do.
What is redundancy?
The Gov.UK website defines redundancy as ‘a form of dismissal from your job that happens when employers need to reduce their workforce’. In general, a redundancy should only happen if your job is no longer needed to make your organisation function. This could be because there’s been a downturn in business, a new process has been implemented (which means your job is no longer a function that’s needed) or because someone else is able to absorb bits of your job as part of their role. It could also be due to a lack of funds, a lack of projects, relocating (central office space is expensive these days) or because a business is struggling and is about to go under.
What happens, exactly?
I only have one experience of redundancy, which I was so grateful for that I just took it all lying down (literally, from bed). But the process goes that once the roles that are up for redundancy have been identified, and the people who are in those roles have been informed, a consultation period follows in which the employers and employees can work together to potentially find a way for the organisation to save the role from redundancy – whether through new opportunities or restructuring. You are also invited to apply for an other open roles across the organisation. In all honesty though, if you see a proposed org chart and your role isn’t on it – it’s probably not looking good.
Do I get a payout?
It depends on how long you’ve worked at the company for. I’d worked at mine for just short of two years, which meant that the only thing I qualified for was my notice period (which thankfully, was three months) and any unused holiday days. I stretched the lump sum out and it was enough to give me four months of not having an official job.
Isn’t ‘redundancy’ just a fancy word for getting fired?
No it is not. To be made redundant is to be told that the role you performed is no longer needed because it is superfluous to the organisation’s needs. Your job has basically disappeared and sadly, because you were the person who did that job, you now have to disappear too.
Does it mean I was bad at my job?
No it does not. It’s your job that’s been made redundant, not you as a person. In reality, the leaders of your organisation probably looked through a spreadsheet that included all the salaries of each department and figured out where they could save some money. You are a person who is many things and the job that you do is only a small part of who you are. You were good at your job because you did it (and I bet you did it so well) right until the business couldn’t afford you anymore. Please do not take it personally.
How am I supposed to I hype myself up for finding a new job while feeling so deflated about having just lost one?
Look, I’m not going to pretend this is easy because it isn’t. Although being made redundant is about numbers on a spreadsheet and not about the people doing a job, it really fucking sucks to essentially be told that what you do doesn’t bring in enough value to the place you’ve likely worked unbelievable hard to create value for. It’s not exactly the best feeling in the world.
So now is the time to hype yourself up, and I have two ways to do this.
The first is to go on a Good Job Trawl. Over the course of my career, I’ve saved screenshots and saved emails of times where someone has given me really positive feedback or complimented me for something I’ve done. I keep all of these, along with yearly reviews and feedback, in a folder on my personal Google Drive. I dive into the folder when I have moments of doubt or bad weeks – and I basically swam around in the folder during the weeks that followed my redundancy. If you don’t already have a Good Job Folder, make one now. If you’ve got access to yearly review documents and feedback, read it all again and pull out all the things you were praised for. Screenshot things and save them to the folder, or copy and paste them into a Google Doc until they read like a statement of how great you are and how great you’ve been. Reach out to people you’ve worked with and ask them to send you a few lines about what they most valued about having you as a colleague. Or better yet, ask them to leave you a recommendation on LinkedIn. Note down the themes that tie these comments together and hopefully, you’ll start to realise exactly what makes you so good. It’ll help you to pitch yourself to new jobs in the future, too.
The second thing costs money (though it doesn’t have to be lots). If you can afford it out of your redundancy payout, take yourself away – either alone or with the people who make you feel your sparkliest. Go somewhere with them and remind yourself of who you are outside of your job. You are so much more than your job and so many of us fall into the trap of letting it define us – especially in our twenties. So treat this redundancy like a breakup. Surround yourself with all the joy that usually lives outside the 9-5 and let yourself get over the grief of losing something that’s taken up so much of your life. Bask in all the things you couldn’t do because of your job (hello, meeting friends for a boozy lunch at 12pm on a Wednesday) and spend time doing things that’ll help you piece yourself back together. Go for walks in the middle of the afternoon. Say hi to the dogs you see. Eat a croissant. Try a new flavour of crisps (don’t try the Torres Fried Egg crisps that I thought would change my life though, they’re absolutely rank). Spend time with the people you love but never manage to find time for. Finish reading that book you started but couldn’t finish because work was just so busy. And then when you finally do get a new job, remember how good these things made you feel – and don’t let them fall to the wayside again.
Should I be honest about being made redundant when I’m interviewing for new jobs?
Why not? Redundancies are happening all over the place right now. It’s not a reflection of how good you are, but a reflection of how bad the economy is – and maybe even the business plan (or product/service offering) your previous company had in place to survive it. Own it and bounce back from it.
How do I find another job?
First things first, take a deep breath. This isn’t going to be easy, but you can handle it. Ready to get down to business now? Good for you. Time to get onto LinkedIn, sort out your profile, sort out your CV (Good Copy CVs can help you with this) get in touch with recruiters, reach out to your network and treat the job search like your new full time job.
If you work in the creative, marketing, branding, advertising and startup industries, the wonderful thing about them is that they all have thriving networks and communities – many in person, and many more online. Over the eight years I’ve been in London, I’ve attended so many in-person events, online talks and actively participated in communities like #CopywritersUnite. This now means I have a great LinkedIn feed where people in my industry are sharing opportunities all the time. Start liking things. Start commenting on things. Start connecting with people who do what you do, or people you’d like to work for. Get your name out there.
Make a list of companies and brands you’d absolutely love to work for (the ones on your Desert Island Brands list). Then, get on on LinkedIn and find the person who does the role that you think you’d likely report to if you worked there. Connect with them and send them a message. (It’s also kinda easy to guess people’s company emails, btw.) Tell them who you are, tell them what you do and tell them why you love the company they work for. Ask whether they a) have any roles coming up soon b) currently need any support with existing workloads c) would be up for a chat on a video call. Recruitment is a nightmare and having someone drop into your inbox with the right set of skills can be a hiring manager’s absolute dream – you never know what might work out.
Am I going to be ok?
Yes you are. It’s going to be weird and it’s going to feel shit at times but on a day very soon from now, you’ll be thriving at some other job, chatting to one of your new co-workers who you’re already bitching about Charlotte from Marketing to, looking back on this period and remembering it as That Time You Got Made Redundant – and that’ll be it. In the end, you might even look back on it as fondly as I did. I hope you do.
USEFUL RESOURCES
Advice on how to self-promote and navigate your career confidently.
CV and cover letter writing.
Helping you to talk about money and live a better life on any budget.
Helping you and your family to save money, destigmatise debt and tackle overspending.
The best place to find all the info you need on exactly what’s going on, what’s going to happen and what you should do.
I just came across this - and “it me”! Redundancy is the best thing that’s happened to me. I’d entirely lost myself through burnout and desperately wanted to quit but didn’t know how to cope with what came next. Then the choice was made for me - and gave me the money to have space to recover and figure it out. Currently sat in Costa Rica where I’ve been for three weeks, all on gardening leave pay as I start to think “what next”. Great advice in here for navigating the next stage - thank you!
I really enjoyed reading this, and find some parallels here with my own story (not redundancy, but deciding enough was enough and leaving my job). I’ve recently started a podcast about women who have made a career change to allow them to live and work more creatively. Might you be interested/willing to be interviewed? Have a listen here: https://chezhanny.substack.com/podcast