Redundancy you didn't see coming: five conversations to have

Career transitions can take many forms, but some of the most challenging are those that happen unexpectedly – redundancy, restructuring, or suddenly leaving a job you may or may not have loved.

Redundancy, restructuring, being told "the role no longer exists", the polite conversation that turned out to be the last one. However it was framed, the effect is the same. You went into work with a sense of purpose; you came home trying to figure out who you are now.

If you're reading this in the first few weeks of that, I want to say something first before I offer any advice: what you're feeling is normal. The lost, rudderless sense that follows a redundancy isn't a sign of weakness, over-identification with your work, or anything else you should be trying to fix. It's a completely reasonable response of a person whose structure, identity and daily sense of value have been removed at the same time. It will come back, probably in a different shape, and not necessarily in a way you might expect, but it will come back.

The mistake most people make in the first few weeks is trying to replace what they've lost too quickly. They update the CV that afternoon. They post on LinkedIn by Friday. They apply for the first three roles that look vaguely similar to the one they've just left. For some, the financial pressure will drive this, and that’s totally understandable. And there is a real, human need to feel productive, to feel busy, to feel that they are doing something rather than sitting with what has happened and processing it.

But the coaching work I do with people in this position almost always starts by making the case for a different first move. Not action, but reflection. And then the conversations that make the reflection useful.

Here are five conversations that can help you consider your next steps.

The conversation with yourself about decompression

The first work is not necessarily serious job-hunting. Scan the market for sure, familiarise yourself with where and how jobs might be posted. But another priority is decompressing. Giving yourself permission to pause and reflect on what has happened is preparation for making better decisions than you'd make right now, and coaching can help with this.

I know this is easier to write than to do, and some people reading this are facing real financial pressure and cannot afford three months of contemplation. That's not what I'm suggesting. Three days is enough to start; three to six weeks feels about right. You may not need three months. But even a few days that you deliberately mark as decompression time, in which you slow down, sleep better, and let the shock recede, will change the quality of every decision you make afterwards.

The specific advice I'd offer: don't try to replace the structure of a job. Build a rhythm instead. When I left a large organisation myself, I scheduled the mornings of that transition period with things that gave me purpose without giving me pressure. A 9 am coffee catch-up with someone in my network. A gym class. A walk with a friend. Working provides a natural structure with meetings and deadlines, but the rhythm is what you build for yourself.

I found this reframe one of the most helpful anchors in the first few weeks. It served me much better than trying to recreate the job I just left. This opportunity to create some space in your days can still be purposeful.

The conversation with your partner or family

Not the conversation about money; that comes next. This is the conversation about what the next few days, weeks and months might look like at home. What support do you need? What support do they need? What might need to be reimagined about family life if the job you had is not the job you're going back to?

The mistake I see is people trying to have this conversation and the financial one in the same breath, so neither gets properly addressed. I suggest separating them. This first one is emotional, relational, and about the shape of your life together, and it is one you will revisit as you transition from one role to your next chapter. It sets the foundation for everything else.

The financially oriented conversation

Then, separately, the money. With your partner, a financial planner, or both. What runway do you actually have? What does any settlement look like when the tax has been taken off? What savings can you draw on if needed? What are the real running costs of maintaining the lifestyle you have? And then, what can be paused, deferred, or reduced? What can't? Look at this in weeks and months, and consider when the real pressure might start. This can give you a practical sense of timing.

Having this conversation with a clear head, and with your emotional conversation already had, means you can make financial decisions that reflect reality rather than panic. The people who take the supermarket job the following week without doing this reflection may regret it within a fortnight, not because there is anything wrong with the supermarket job, but because it limited options they didn't yet know they had.

The conversation with friends

Redundancy can be lonely in a specific way. Your work friendships often diminish precisely when you most need them. Your non-work friendships suddenly matter more than they did last month.

The conversation to have with friends is not "help me find a job"; they are opportunities to reconnect, seek opinion, and talk the messy stuff out. These are the conversations that keep your mental health intact through the next few weeks. The coffees, the walks, with the people who knew you before this job and will know you after it.

The conversation with your network

When you're ready, the conversation with your network is not "I'm looking for a job like the one I had". It's "I'm thinking about what's next, and I'd love to hear what you're seeing". The network conversation is about opportunity exploration, not job application. It's about widening the field of what might be possible, not narrowing it back down to what you already had.

These conversations will keep you in touch with the industry you worked in, allowing you to explore other industries and keep you top of mind. They help you regain your sense of professional self and help you to redefine what that is.

One senior leader I coached

A senior leader in publishing was let go without warning and found the job market a struggle when she looked for a like-for-like role. Instead, we paused the search and used the coaching space to think about where her real value lay, what she enjoyed, and how she wanted to spend her time and energy going forward. This resulted in a change of direction, some retraining, and a role that was, on paper, a step down from the one she'd left.

Within two years, she'd matched her old salary. More importantly, she reported feeling more content in it than she had in years. What got her to the previous role wasn't what she needed to keep doing. The coaching space gave her permission to see that, and the confidence to act. A coach is not a substitute for these conversations; having them alongside coaching gives you the tools to make your next move deliberate and purposeful.

You don't have to have it all figured out this week, or next month. Give yourself time to have the conversations that will make better decisions when you make them. You spent years growing into who you were; you have permission to reimagine who you are next.