Scars: A Reflection

Exactly six years ago today, on Monday, April 18, 2016… I walked into an office and was laid off from my first job out of college.

Due to changes in clients and the resulting financial impacts on the company, several employees were affected. “Your position has been eliminated,” the head of HR said.

You can read more about that experience via this blog post I wrote the day after, but no one can ever prepare you to hear those words. No amount of college education or internship experiences could’ve prepared me to suddenly lose my job at 23 years old. 

That layoff became a defining part of my story, which only continued to be filled with trials and disappointments for the two years that followed. I share about those experiences in my book, Coming of Age, but there’s a reason I wanted to reflect about that specific day on my blog.

Dates are meaningful to me, and I often use them as a reason to pause and take time to reflect.

Every April 18th results in its own emotions and memories. The first year after the layoff was the most challenging as I was in an unhealthy work environment and questioned my career path even more. Instead of dwelling on my circumstances, I took the day off and went hiking with a friend on that day.

During the second year, I was awaiting the results of a final interview, reminding me yet again of the uncertainty and stress that comes with applying for jobs.

And in that third year, I saw my picture hanging on the wall of the lobby as I had been recognized as employee of the quarter. I later celebrated my one-year work anniversary with friends who had supported me throughout that entire season.

As the years passed, however, the day began to hold less significance, and sometimes the day would even pass by without much of a thought from me. As I reflect now, it reminds me that while it was a traumatic day in my life, it doesn’t (and shouldn’t) hold power over my life and my future.

This year, approaching April 18 felt different. Why? This is the first April 18th that I’ve experienced since publishing my book. 

Today, I can look back and, in a new way, be grateful THAT I was laid off. 

Are there moments I wished it never happened? Of course. To be honest, more often than I could count. 

To lose my income, healthcare, relationships with coworkers, and career trajectory all in a matter of one day was traumatizing. I avoided the office building for months and even to this day, I can’t walk past it without remembering where I sat on a bench and cried on the phone with my parents. That day left a scar.

The two years that followed also left some scars. Before I was 26, I had dealt with a toxic work environment, a minimum wage job, and a rescinded job offer. 

While I wish I could say those experiences changed me only for the better, they did impact my confidence, my career path, and my ability to advocate for myself in a work environment.

As I reach the end of my twenties, I continue to see how important it is to notice when I let those past experiences taint my view of myself. In the spirals of negative self-talk, I have to remind myself that I am not defined by my career story, my salary or savings, or my job itself. I am also not defined by a published book or any future success it could have, either. 

This is when my faith comes in as my foundation. As hard as it is to remember my worth on my own, I am grateful for the reminders of grace, unconditional love, and an identity truly given in Christ. When I forget, I have a God who reminds me.

So today, I reflect on April 18 and acknowledge how that day changed my life.

That day deepened my sense of purpose as it gave me even more reason to write my book.

That day fueled my desire to write authentically about the ups and downs we all experience in this unique season of our lives.

That day tested my faith and began an intense two-year journey of trusting that God would sustain and provide for me, even when I didn’t know how or when He would.

That day changed me.

And while I’ll continue to carry those scars with me as I navigate my life in my thirties, the scars don’t define me. I don’t want to see my scars and focus on the loss, grief, and trials. I want to view my scars as reminders of endurance, resilience, and strength. 

My scars are a reminder of how God sustained me when I didn’t know how I would pay my next month’s rent. How he provided for my needs and never left me, and promises the same for my future.

My scars are a beautiful reminder of what was once lost and broken can always be made new.

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” (Psalm 147:3)