Five years ago, I sat under a tree and cried.
It was on May 5, 2020, and I woke up with an email: I was being fired from the work of my dreams as a global creative leader in Airbnb, one of the 25% of the company that left that morning when the pandemic hit the travel industry with force.
I walked to the park with stunning, completely masked (remember those days?), I found a tree and broke. Around me, life continued. The children laughed. The dogs threw. The sun leaked through the branches as if nothing had changed.
But for me, everything had.
The layoffs rose to their highest levels from COVID-19 from July 2025, so if you are reading this, there is a good possibility that you or someone who loves has felt this sting recently too.
First, I’m sorry that it happened to you. I know how disorienting and painful the loss of employment can be. The complaint is real. Uncertainty can feel overwhelming. And the identity shaking? That hits different.
This is what I also want to know: this can be the end of a story, but it is also the beginning of a new more incredible story that you can write completely in your own terms.
Whether I am navigating a career transition or simply listen to that quiet voice that whispers “maybe there is something else”, I want to share two narration practices that helped me find my way after the loop. Since then, they have also guided hundreds of my history training customers through their posture points.
Choose what son of history you want this to be
In the week after my dismissal, I put me ping between anxiety (“Apply to works now!”) And a complaint about my lost identity and my work community. But then I realized that I was in a “turn on the page”. I would tell this story over and over again. What child or history wanted it to be?
The psychologist Dan Mcadams calls this a “narrative option.” How we frame our experiences to develop personal meaning. And these elections have real consequences. People who carry contamination narratives (stories that begin well and end badly) experience high rates of anxiety and depression. But people who frame their experiences as redemption narratives (stories that begin badly but end well) report more confidence, connection with purpose and better mental health.
In other words, his research shows that changing our narrative predicts and precedes psychological well -being. Consciously choosing a redemption narrative will put you on the way to feel better.
After my dismissal, I told myself: “This is a story of the moment I lost my work. But it will be a story of the time I am.”
Your reflection message: After having had its moment crying under the proverbial tree (we all need it), it has an option. You can frame this transition as something that happened to you, however, you are a victim of circumstances that has to take whatever it is later. Or you can see this as an unexpected turn of the plot that becomes the catalyst in its most intentional chapter and aligned so far. The narrative you choose will determine every action taken below.
Name your professional chapters adjusted to shape your future
Once I stopped applying panic to the jobs, I played time to ask: What do I want to do?
I have spent 15 years tell the stories of other people, from the Obama and Airbnb campaign to a wild summer working in a brave dating program, but I had never explored mine.
So I cataloged the chapters of my career with names such as “my year of hope and change” and “crisis and restoration of identity after Airbnb”. The patterns arose immediately. I loved creating spaces for people to use their stories to create impact, but seriously feared offices policy. I took more when I created and molded myself, but I fought in positions with narrow work descriptions or restricted responsibilities.
This clarity gave me the confidence to start my history coaching business instead of returning to a more traditional role. Now I spend my days doing exactly what ignites me, which is helping people and teams navigate the crossroads using their personal stories as a guide, everything without the corporate bureaucracy that always gave me.
When we take a fang to map our experiences, we discover themes and threads that we cannot see when we move too fast. The chapters of his career have clues about what energizes you, what drains you and what you are building uniquely below.
I call this practice narrative navigation: using its past, present and possible stories to create a compass that transforms “What now?” In “this way forward.”
Your reflection message: Take time to describe the chapters of your career. Give them creative names and reflect on what he liked (or did not) about work, people and compensation. What patterns arise from what you love, what have you overcome and where do you want to go later?
If you want to immerse yourself more in this exercise, I have created a worksheet that guides it through the mapping of the chapters of your career to discover your unique wisdom and direction.
Your story is still being written
Five years later, that moment sobbing under the tree launched my trip as an entrepreneur. The end I feared became the best beginning. The dismissal forced me to discover who was beyond my work title. Reflecting on my own stories helped me clarify what I really wanted to work. Now I can witness that my story trains customers who have similar advances every day, work that feels infinitely more significant than anything I did in corporate life.
Now is your turn. Pause. Reflect. Choose the narrative that serves you. He is confident that everything you have lived has prepared for what is coming. When you are ready, don’t forget to share your story. You never know who needs to listen to it or what could open it.
Your next chapter is waiting for the corner. . .