But Winners Don't Quit, So Don't You Give Up

Numb.

For hours I felt absolutely nothing.

I just kept replaying the situation in my head all while asking myself, “Did that really just happen?”, “Is this a nightmare?” The words “Your position is being eliminated” kept ringing in my ears. Then came, “We’re just looking for someone that is more excited about the role” making me feel like I had been hit by a semi-truck.

Have you ever had an out-of-body experience?

I don’t think I had until that day. I sat there and watched myself through the glass doors in a meeting as I was told that I would no longer be working there and then asked, “Do you have any questions?” All I could ask was why? I was finally getting a hang of things. My stories were doing great traffic wise. So many co-workers raved about how much of a help I was to them. What did I do wrong? The HR rep said to me, “You didn’t do anything wrong.” I know that was a lie. I had spoken up for myself and asked one too many questions.

I went to my desk and tried not to wear my emotions on my face while I packed my things and left quietly. I did my normal commute back to the subway, but it felt like I was moving in slow motion and everyone else was moving full speed.

The world didn’t stop. How could everyone still be living their life when I had just lost my job?! I was devastated. I sat on the train and my tears calmly flowed down my face. I had so many emotions. I was upset. Confused. Hurt. But a part of me felt relieved.

The truth is, I was very unhappy in my role.

Trying to act like everything at work was OK was more emotionally taxing than I could have ever imagined. I would always cringe when asked, “How are things at the gig?” I would plaster this fake smile on my face and reply, “Good! I love my co-workers”, which wasn’t all a lie. I did love my co-workers — well most of them anyway.

After getting off the train, I didn’t know where to go so I went home. As I walked back to my apartment, making the same commute as I did every day, I thought about my mom. My mother was on her way to visit me for the first time in my new apartment since I had moved to New York. I wanted to call her and tell her what happened. But I didn’t want to upset her before her flight. What was she going to think of me? I was a failure. I thought about my dad who never really wanted me to go to New York in the first place. “Just don’t go there and fuck up Teryn,” he said to me right before I left.

I fucked up.

This was the second time I was laid off in a row. I was embarrassed. The first time I was one out of twelve employees that were let go. That hurt, BUT I still lived at home with my parents. This time I had my own rent and a long list of bills that I was responsible for every month. How was I going to pay them? How was I going to live? How was I going to eat?

I had a big going away party in Chicago where my family and friends came from all over to see me off. Everyone knew that I worked there, how would I break the news to them? I felt like I let everyone down.

I sat on the bench in the nearby park in the middle of February and stared into space for what felt like an eternity. I didn’t feel cold. I didn’t feel pain.

I felt numb.

My mind drifted to the weekend before, when I unexpectedly burst into tears after I saw the first restaurant I ate at when I moved to New York. I thought about how much I endured in such a short time just to work there, only to end up miserable. I thought it would get better. My emotions were in shambles. I was so tense, stressed and anxious. What was wrong with me? My best friend wiped my tears and gave me a hug and told me it would be OK. “It’s OK to cry and let it out. I will ugly cry in the bathroom with you but, let’s get it together,” she said.

I came back to my apartment and was met by my roommate with a confused look on her face. “What are you doing back so early?”, she asked. “You just left.” I believe I said something along the lines of, “I wasn’t feeling it” and went to my room. I laid on my bed and closed my eyes and tried to sleep. It was difficult because my mind was racing but I eventually fell asleep. When I woke up I hoped that everything that had transpired wasn’t real that I had dreamt it.

It was real.

I received a text from my mom saying she had landed. It was time to get myself together. I looked in the mirror to see that my makeup had smeared and my eyeliner was all over my face. I fixed myself up and did some last minute straightening up around the apartment.

I tried to act normal and shortly after she came in she asked me, “How was work today?” Although that was a question she asked me often, this time I didn’t know what to say. I looked at her and immediately broke down.

I truly believe that God had her come to visit me exactly when she did for that reason. I needed her. She consoled me and told me it was going to be OK and it wasn’t the end of the world. It felt like it. She started doing the numbers in her head of how much money I needed to cover my rent until my lease was up strategizing how WE would figure it out.

She also reminded me of something that I didn’t like to rely on. My support system back home that would make sure I didn’t fail.

As the months went on, I applied to countless jobs, took endless edit tests and sent numerous emails reaching out to everyone I could possibly think of. I got so many “Thank you for your interest in this role, we were very impressed with your application but we are looking for someone with more experience,” emails that I lost track.

And I couldn’t forget, “We are currently on a hiring freeze right now but we will reach out with any updates.” Every time I would get somewhat close to landing a role, it was like the door slammed right in my face. It was hard and I was defeated.

I looked to God because he was the only person that made sense in my life. I was broken. I felt extremely uncomfortable. Nothing seemed to be going right. I joined a church in my community and started going every Sunday to help heal my spirit. I relied heavily on my faith because I knew that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. I just had to make it there first.

My newest opportunity came in the most unexpected and arguably untraditional way. I didn’t have to send a resume, a cover letter, or take an edit test. It just took one conversation.

Now that more than a year has passed, I look back at that girl through those glass doors watching as her dreams were crushed and smile. Her dreams weren’t being crushed. She was only being liberated from a toxic situation that she wouldn’t have had the courage to liberate herself from. Life is all about perspective.

Looking back, I wish I knew then, what I know now. Everything was going to be OK. But that isn’t how life works. We have to go through tough situations and become resilient and it makes us who we are.

I’m a fighter. I don’t have it all figured out but I will say that I wouldn’t change my experiences for anything. To say I struggled for nearly a year would be an understatement. But winners don’t quit, so I couldn’t give up.