Grief and community

I lost my job on February 13. I’d been there for five years.

While that job was a lot different than any other job I’ve ever had, and there were several times along the way, especially in the beginning, where I felt like I was trying to put the proverbial square peg in a round hole, I eventually settled in, found people I could ‘real talk’ with, and continued doing what I do best: visual storytelling while evolving the brand.

This particular brand was, if you haven’t figured it out by now from looking around the site, the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau (CFPB) in the federal government. The agency was one of the first targets of the current administration’s DOGE-led overhaul. My anxiety over possibly losing my job started months before it actually happened. I’d had a lot of questions. What frustrated me most in the days immediately following the abrupt termination of my contract (along with thousands of other federal contracts at the CFPB and other agencies across the government), was how many times I’d been reassured along the way that everything would *probably* be fine.

My contract had recently been extended through May of 2026. Having proposed legislation on the floor calling for the end of the CFPB was nothing new. If federal employees were terminated, the government would rely more heavily on contractors. If my CFPB contract was eliminated, there were, potentially, other agencies where I could go. And besides, it would take a literal act of Congress (requiring a super-majority in both houses) to shut down the Bureau. All things I was told to give me some peace of mind at one point or another.

In the end, none of this mattered, of course, and even though part of me had felt it coming for a while by that point, it still took me a while to grieve. Normally when you leave a job, you put in your two weeks notice, wrap up all your work, and say goodbye to your colleagues and team. There was none of that. This all happened so suddenly that it was difficult to wrap my head around. One day I had a job, and then suddenly I didn’t. There were a lot of tears, some out of frustration, some out of sadness, most out of anger. I felt untethered.

I really needed a hug.

And so, my dad came to visit me.

“You didn't ‘lose’ your job. It was taken from you,” he said. “The situation you find yourself in is not a reflection of your value as an employee. It's not a reflection of your value as an expert in your field. And above all else, it is not a reflection of your value as a human being.”

I suppose I already knew this, but it felt really nice to hear someone else say it out loud. I know none of this was within my control, and while that certainly has the potential to make a person feel powerless, the flip-side is that it also wasn't my fault. Since then, I’ve reconnected with a lot of people I’ve worked with in the past—not just at the CFPB, but all those sports teams I worked with beforehand, so many freelance clients…As sad as I was to suddenly lose a job I kinda liked, it has felt so good to hear from so many people I haven't talked to or seen in a while. I've worked with some incredible human beings over the course of my career. What a wonderful feeling to know some of them liked working with me as much as I enjoyed working with them. Even better, I can call a lot of them my friends.

Likewise, I’ve had clients at Pure Barre, other teachers at CFCC, friends from college and friends from high school all reach out in support. I have spent a lot of my life being stubbornly independent. Even though I’ll stop what I’m doing at the drop of a hat to help someone I love, it’s hard for me to admit I need help sometimes, let alone ask for it. These people have offered it to me without being asked at all. I’m so grateful and a little bewildered at how I’ve somehow collected this incredible community.

So right now, I’m letting myself feel all the love and support I’m getting from so many different places. I know I’m lucky to have space and time to consider where I want to go next. Had this happened a decade ago, I wouldn’t have had that luxury. Now I’m in a place where I can put some thought into my next steps and the kind of place I want to work. I found a lot of pride and peace working for a mission driven organization like the CFPB. But I also absolutely thrived on the adrenaline of working in the sports industry. Meanwhile, it’s been a dream of mine to work somewhere that focuses on animals in some way.

All that to say, I don’t know where I’ll be a month from now, or a year from now, or five years and so on. It might take some time, and there will probably be more times when I’ll need someone else to remind me between now and then, but if I know myself at all, I know this: everything will be ok.

Actually, it will probably be better than I could possibly imagine.