We back like we never left! But before we clock in fr, let's take one last look on a season such as this.
On February 28th, I lost my job.
The job I prayed for, the job that paid me more than quite literally anyone in my nuclear family has ever made, the job that provided me some of the smartest, sweetest, most generous coworkers I could've ever asked for, the job that solidified for me the kind of career I want to have.
On a chilly Tuesday morning, only about a month and a half before my first anniversary there, that job was gone.
I'm not goin hold you, I cried. I called my manager to make sure I wasn't trippin and after learning nearly 50% of the entire company was gone in a Thanos-esque snap, I fell to my knees and cried for a solid three minutes.
But after those three minutes elapsed, I had a sudden, almost cheerful realization: this isn't my first time without a job.
In a flash, all the memories of what my life looked like before I started my job came before my eyes. I remembered being a very unemployed graduate student celebrating the end of the first semester in Mexico City with my best friend. I remembered galavanting the Spanish countryside on horseback with my sister for my birthday. I remembered the trips and adventures my college friends and I pulled off when we were truly unemployed 18, 19-year-olds.
Just as quickly as the grief came, it was replaced with the comfort of knowing that I'll be okay because I've been here before. I lived a very full life with no income before, and I could pull from that to keep myself rooted in my reality.
I wrote a piece last year about how God uses other people to speak to/into you. And through a former coworker, I received a singular piece of advice that has allowed me to live the life you’re about to read without a paycheck:
Live so that you can save 50% of what you make to extend your personal runway and be more resilient to financial change like the threat of recession or a mass layoff.
I sacrificed and saved aggressively. I sleep in the same room now that I watched Barney VHS tapes in 23 years ago. I wash dishes in the sink I received my first bath in back in the spring of ‘99. I drive my beloved college car, Little Red, and intend to do so literally until the wheels fall off. Like I don’t want y’all to think I’m out here just swiping and living with no plan, just vibes. I’m swiping and living responsibly and in alignment with my priorities because I minimized my expenses and was obedient to a piece of advice that has protected me against financial strain ever since.
I made my priorities a while ago: health, beauty, and travel. This means I ensure that I will always be able to support my fitness endeavors, healthy eating habits, my visits to my nail tech/aesthetician/braider, and my visits to this city or that one. I found my focus and saved aggressively so that if/when the ball did drop, I knew I’d be okay for a while.
I also did a lot of emotional work to navigate the brutal job hunt process and learned lessons about myself that transcended my employment status. But one thing I believed then and now is that what God has for me will come to me. Every time.
Well, y'all ready for a testimony? By the grace of God and the unabridged generosity of too many friends to name, ya girl signed an offer letter for an exciting and remote role!
So before I get back into my corporate girly bag, I did want to just reflect a bit on the last 5 months of my life during which I had more free time than I've ever had.
I couldn't grieve too long over that job because four days later I was laying an 82-year-old icon to rest and four days after that I was 30,000 feet over the Atlantic Ocean bound for Budapest.
How can you be sad when you’re having the time of your life?
March was, as it always seems to be, pre-planned, pre-booked, and destined to be a time abroad. During my 17 days in Europe, I spent time with my beloved Ameerah and Jada sipping tea, discovering mouth-watering goulash, catching trains this way and that, record shopping, and breaking our new New Balance sneakers in on the well-worn streets of Hungary and France. But in between that, I was applying ceaselessly, asking for referrals, doing phone screens, and, as the podcasters say, grinding through the midnight hours to ensure I had a role by the time I landed back home.
That, clearly, did not turn out to be the case.
April was spent really recognizing the new reality of my life, but I wasted no time lingering. I set off to do what I did the last time I was unemployed: volunteer. I found my way to New Life Community Center on Candler Road doing what I found to be quite relaxing and rewarding: packing food boxes and helping my neighbors in the community in a very practical way.
I started off strong with at least 2-3x per week up there. I ain't have nothing else to do, honestly. No interviews were coming through, I was avoiding the doomsday content on LinkedIn as much as humanly possible, and trying to find joy wherever I could. That became my days and then weeks. The gym, the community center, and random performance venues across the city became the recurring holds on my calendar.
April 7 started what would become truly an anchor for the early stages of my unemployment: stained glass class.
Tapping into my inner artist and allowing myself to be an amateur was crucial in boosting my mental health and nurturing my creativity.
I had just been rejected from a job in Amsterdam that I truly felt I would've enjoyed, yet even my best efforts could not outdo alignment and fate.
May was a month that forced me to navigate the duality of a truly heart-wrenching job hunt and a very full travel and social calendar. I was, in real-time, doing all the things I enjoyed. Because of my habit of booking trips several months in advance, my trips throughout the spring and summer had essentially been paid for long before I lost my source of income.
But in between seeing Sweeney Todd on Broadway and kayaking with my friends on the Potomac River, I was truly fighting a battle against what I can only describe as a sinking feeling. It felt as though every time I laid on my bed after reading a no-reply rejection email, I could literally feel myself sinking deeper and deeper into oblivion.
I felt like I was losing my mind trying to find my way through the absolute disarray of the job market while also doing everything in my power to have a good time. Every morning I had to wake up and intentionally remind myself that I would be okay, there was no shame to be had in getting laid off, and that I had everything I needed right now, today. I felt burdened by the thought that I'd wasted my time and brain cells attaining two degrees that felt useless in a market where the only thing that seemed to be of worth was a century and a half of experience.
That, of course, was something I didn't have. But what I did have in May was a renewed commitment to making my #Funemployment, well, fun. I enjoyed my trips to DC and NYC, continued to volunteer, read my books from the library, and did what I needed to do to keep my chin up in the midst of it all.
It was also at the end of May that, following the advice of a stranger on LinkedIn, I cold-emailed the hiring manager for a remote role I found on Instagram. I applied and emailed her on the same day.
On the first of June, I was invited to a phone screen.
On the fifth of June, I had the phone screen.
On the 15th of June, I was asked to submit a take-home assignment.
On the 27th of June, I had a Zoom interview with the hiring manager.
On the 30th of June, I had the final interview with the rest of the team.
In between that, I visited the Samurai exhibit at the High, attended my friend's first sermon, spent a few days in Chicago, toured a recording studio, and finished my stained glass class journey.
I'll be frank in that despite the obvious alignment and progression with the interview process for the role outlined above, I, still brokenhearted from the Amsterdam disappointment, was simply afraid to get too excited. "This could be it, but it might not be," I reminded myself often. I was interviewing somewhere else at the time and was quite enthusiastic about that as well. To no avail, as you would expect.
June was warm, social, and also the first month that extended beyond the severance my job provided me as a parting gift. I tried not to allow myself to be too optimistic, but I had my eyes set on some pretty expensive trips for Q3 and Q4 and really began to realize how nice a real job (not the veterinarian's receptionist job I wanted after I watched Dr. Doolittle) would be instrumental to that coming to pass.
I started July with a celebration of the accomplishment of a dear former classmate. I had no idea within 14 days, I'd have enough to celebrate for a long time to come.
Inspired by my friend's celebration, I threw a birthday party for the very blog you're reading in this moment. The celebration is now called Disco Day (July 11th). It was a gloriously fun, vulnerable, and joyous time. I'm grateful for every moment of that day and every soul who attended and supported.
I received the final rejection from a role I was referred for on July 11th. It was disappointing, but at least I didn't have to follow through on a promise I made to Asia (if I was offered the job, I'd get forest green braids lol).
I attended a fabulous community dinner, met and hung out with amazing people, found what I believe to be my future apartment, took my first two Lagree classes in a long long time, but most importantly:
I signed my offer letter for my new role on July 20th.
You're talking to the new Communications Associate for the Preterm Birth Initiative at the University of California, San Francisco Department of Obstetrics, Gynecology, and Reproductive Sciences. Ya girl is out here using her communications training and human-centric content design practice to connect medical research and community wisdom to the Black families of the Bay Area in the interest of birth justice, full-term pregnancies, and healthy Black babies and parents.
I'm not goin hold you. I'm taking a 45% (forty-five percent) pay reduction. I have a healthcare deductible now (BUT WE GOT PRETTY DECENT HEALTH INSURANCE HALLELUJAH). It's going to take me 6 months to save what I used to save in three. But let me tell you what I have tried to focus on in this moment:
For this moment, I have enough. I'm excited to contribute meaningfully to the improvement of birth outcomes for Black families. Will I do this forever? I doubt it, but God’s surprised me before. Is this something I can enjoy right now, today?
Absolutely.
To the folks on the job hunt, may God be with you, darling. It's tough and it can get dark but I pray you find something, anything to be a light for you every single day.
To the folks with a job, save baby. Save right now. Because by the grace of God and through employed Thalia's aggressive saving, unemployed Thalia was able to live and give and thrive securely for five months without too much strain. Save now. Your future self will thank you for it.
Thalia, 24, looks forward to saving up to move to a gorgeous apartment in the next 6-9 months and serving tea or coffee to her friends as they discuss the true plague that is grass wall restaurants in Atlanta.
