I Lost My Job. Please Stop Asking Me What’s Next

By Danielle Graham

When I lost my job in a very public, very painful way, there was a lot I had to process. A trauma lasagna™, if you will. There was the fallout, the gossip—not to mention losing a job I loved, people I thought were friends, the hit to my identity, and the big, BIG existential dread of: What now?

Which is probably why one of the hardest parts, and one I was completely unprepared for, was venturing out into the world and having someone ask me the very question I was already asking myself every hour on the hour: “So…what are you going to do now?”

I want to believe most of them meant well. Some were probably trying to be encouraging. And some, I’m fairly certain, were just being nosy. But every time the question was hurled at me, it felt like a punch in the gut. I wanted to scream: “I DON’T KNOW! IT’S A MIRACLE I’M SHOWERED AND OUT OF THE HOUSE TODAY.”

Because I really didn’t know. And for a while I stopped going out altogether.

This was a pretty dramatic turn for someone whose previous life involved being out all the time. Events, premieres, dinners, interviews, red carpets. Suddenly, the idea of running into someone I knew filled me with dread because I knew there was a very good chance they were going to ask me THE QUESTION.

The irony wasn’t lost on me. I knew that staying home and avoiding people was probably limiting the very opportunities everyone kept asking me about. But I couldn’t face another conversation where I felt like I was supposed to have a plan for my professional reinvention when I was still trying to process what had just happened to me.

I’d spent most of my adult life as a television host. It was a huge part of how I saw myself, and suddenly I didn’t know if I would ever do it again. Eventually, I had to confront the possibility that it might actually be over. Truthfully, it took me almost a year to accept and grieve this big, beautiful career I’d had. I’m not sure we do enough to recognize job loss for the grief that it is. We don’t always give people the space, compassion or grace to sit with it for a while. Instead, we want to know what they’re doing next.

If you’ve ever lost a job, you’re part of a club that knows exactly what I’m talking about. It’s a crappy one to be in. Absolutely wouldn’t recommend. But if you are one of the lucky ones who has never been initiated, I have one piece of advice for the next time someone you know loses their job: Please don’t ask them what they’re going to do now. Chances are, they don’t know. And if they do, let them tell you when they’re ready. 

Instead, ask how they’re doing. Ask if there’s any way you can support them. Take them for coffee. Take them for a walk. Talk about literally anything else but what’s next.

The truth is, we love reinvention stories, but we’re much less comfortable with the part before the reinvention. We love hearing about the person who got fired and started a wildly successful company. The person whose life blew up and then they rebuilt it into something even better. We love the comeback. We’re not nearly as interested in the Tuesday afternoon six months earlier when that same person was sitting at home thinking, What the hell am I going to do with my life?

Eventually, things did start to take shape for me. New opportunities came up. I started performing and hosting again, in new and exciting spaces. I built a successful podcast, In Three, with one of my best friends. I started putting myself out there again and figuring out which parts of my old career I wanted to take with me and which parts I was ready to leave behind.

But it took time. It wasn’t a process I could rush. As much as I capital H hated it, I had to sit in that horrible, messy middle mud puddle for as long as I did. I needed the time to figure out what I actually wanted instead of grabbing at the first thing that allowed me to answer everyone else’s question.

I’m not going to tie this up in a neat little bow and tell you losing my job was secretly the best thing that ever happened to me. It wasn’t. It was painful and destabilizing, and it took me a long time to feel like myself again.

Recently, a friend said to me, “You’re not the same person you were a few years ago.” And I felt this swell of pride. She was right. I’m not. I think it was the first time I could really appreciate how far I’d come.

So, if someone you know has just lost their job, please don’t ask them what’s next. Give them a minute. Let them live in the middle and figure it out when they’re ready. They’ll tell you when they know.

And when they do figure it out, cheer for them. Really, really loudly.

For more from Danielle, explore her HERE’S THE THING column on 29Secrets—where she dives into beauty trends, relationship moments, and the real-life conversations we’re all having right now.