Licking my wounds. Cracking my knuckles.

Ah, where to begin? It’s been an interesting couple of months.

Shortly after 6 a.m. on May 20, my employer sent a form letter to 8,000 people letting them know that their roles had been eliminated. I was one of them.

Even though everyone I worked with had been bracing for this, it still took the wind out of me. I’d had back-to-back top performance ratings, supported two (or more) teams, stepped up while our manager was on maternity leave and spent the previous year preparing for the company’s shift toward AI. It wasn’t enough.

I had just a few minutes after getting the email to collect my thoughts. At my company, it was customary to write a “badge post” when you left — an essay about your time at the company and the people you’d known, etc. These are often very emotional pieces rich with detail and affection.

I didn’t have time to write a proper badge post, but I didn’t want to leave without saying a few words. This is what I had time to scratch out before I lost access to our system:

Shaddock out.

Well, I got the email. My role has been eliminated.

The week before I started at Meta, my dad got diagnosed with terminal cancer. I spent my first nine months here taking care of him, joining meetings from the hospital parking lot and working late to ensure my teams were properly supported.

He died. Then my mother-in-law died. And then one of my closest friends died. In the middle of all that, I suffered a life-altering back injury.

So it’s been a tough four years. Losing my job pales in comparison.

Thank you to the people who’ve helped me learn and made me laugh.

Stay tuned for more.

Blog: https://www.samshaddock.com

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/samanthashaddock

Short? Yes. Dark and doleful? Maybe a little. But that’s what my head and heart wanted to say in the moment, and every word was of course completely true.

My four years at Meta were not easy by any means. I look back at my time and think, “Holy crap, Samantha. How did you do it? You went through all that and still excelled. You produced work that mattered. You gave of yourself, and your efforts bore fruit.”

But, you know, there’s another way to look at it, and for a little while, I did. The day of the layoff, my wonderful friend, mentor and former CEO called me. As we chatted, I felt the tears rise up. I’d left my dear colleagues and friends at my previous employer for a place that, in the end, decided it could not afford to think of me as anything but one employee among thousands. What else might I have done with that time and energy? Maybe I could have been a better caregiver to my father. Maybe I could have been a better sister to my brothers. A better spouse to my husband. Maybe I could have been present for my friend as she faced death. Maybe I could have helped our agency in the aftermath. Maybe I’d not have sat in meetings for 10 or 12 hours a day to the detriment of my own health. Maybe I’d still be able to run, jump and dance, and sleep through the night.

As I choked on all these maybes, my mentor listened with compassion. Then he gently offered that while it’s natural to have these feelings, it’s not healthy or helpful. And of course he was right. He usually is. Later, I spoke with another friend at the agency who said the same thing. “If you’d never gone there, you’d always have kicked yourself for not trying.” And, of course, she also was right.

The days and weeks since have taught me that I am indeed a blessed woman. Friends from inside and outside Meta have given their support. I’ve been consulting since May 21, and reacquainting myself with the rush of working with clients and solving their problems.

I’ve had time to build my portfolio and in so doing reflect on my body of work — not just over the last four years but over an entire career. I’ve remembered in greater detail, and with pride, my time in traditional journalism, informing the public while falling in love with the craft of writing. Helping newsrooms adapt to the internet, search and social media. Learning what it takes to be a great copywriter. Founding Gutsy Broads. Launching my own agency. Helping enterprises see how the basic tenets of journalism translate for them. And connecting other former newspeople with work that invigorates them.

Losing my job forced me to think more broadly. Meta might have been the biggest name and the biggest paycheck for me so far. Yes, I earned my place there, and earned every bonus and promotion that came after that. But it isn’t the story. It was one chapter in a career that has taken me from newsrooms to Fortune 500 brands, from journalism to product design, from startups to one of the biggest companies in the world.

Looking back now, I’m less interested in how my most recent chapter ended than in writing the next one.