Personal Update - From Layoff to life Reboot

Fernanda: Hi friends, welcome back. Today I'm going to do something a little different. Instead of sharing stories from Filled Cups or talking about connection tips, I want to share a personal update.

Back in June, I was laid off from my corporate job, and that moment ended up becoming the start of something much bigger than I expected. This episode is about transition, letting go of old definitions of success, and finding alignment in unexpected ways. I hope as I share my story, you'll hear something that helps you reflect on your own path, too.

If we look at my story in chapters, Chapter One was the ending I didn't see coming. I was laid off at the end of June. To be honest, I kind of knew it was going to happen; I just didn't know when.

I have no hard feelings toward the company because I understood the business realities behind their decision, and I wasn't the only one affected. Because it wasn't personal, I didn't get caught in the "why me?" mindset, but the first couple of weeks still brought a lot of anxiety, poor sleep, and plenty of crying. I even considered talking to a doctor about medication to manage the panic, but thankfully things began to shift.

The truth is, I had been unhappy during the last several years of my corporate career. I kept switching jobs hoping the next one would make me feel fulfilled, but once the novelty wore off, I was still disengaged and burnt out.

I finally realized that this layoff was the exact push I needed to bet on myself. When you work in corporate, so much of your ego gets tied to your title and where you stand on the ladder, but letting go of that director identity turned out to be surprisingly easy. Looking back now, I have zero regrets about leaving it behind.

That brings me to Chapter Two: turning the corner. I joke that I took my own mini Eat, Pray, Love trip to Myrtle Beach, which is just three hours from my house. I gave myself a true solo break where I didn't have to manage family, kids, or my husband—I just focused on what Fernanda needed.

I spent days resting on the sand, boogie boarding, reading, eating ice cream, and binge-watching comfort favorites like Pride and Prejudice, North & South, and Yesterday. Around the fourth morning, I woke up with anxiety around 6:00 AM, walked out onto the porch as the sun was rising, and began pouring a stream-of-consciousness brain dump into my journal.

Giving myself that unstructured time to write brought immense clarity. A few major truths surfaced that morning: my life is much broader than any job; I deserve boundaries, rest, and delegation; and taking a risk doesn't have to be terrifying—it can be liberating.

After that trip, I had an encouraging conversation with my mentor, Brent, who told me to savor the pause and get organized. I also brought a big concern to my therapist: letting go of being the primary breadwinner in our household.

I asked her how I would handle earning less than my husband, Frank, and she practically replied, "Why don't you just ask him?" I went home, talked it through with Frank, and he was completely supportive.

Around the same time, I reread Designing Your Life, which applies design-thinking principles to personal and career transitions. That book completely reframed what "good enough" work looks like for me and prompted me to map out future scenarios and prototype them through conversations.

During my beach retreat, I also did a values clarification exercise and identified my three core pillars: education (learning and sharing knowledge), connection (being present and deeply engaged), and self-expression (embracing my voice and creative side).

That clarity opened the door to Chapter Three: my new path forward. I worked through three sessions with my mentor and career coach, Tom, to reality-check my ideas and make sure I wasn't being delusional.

I also leaned on my friend Lisa, who is a life coach, and my friend Ria, who was navigating a similar life shift. All of those conversations, reflections, and exercises culminated in a dual-track plan.

Long-term, I want to pursue a master's in counseling and step into the role of an educator—writing books, speaking on panels, hosting workshops, and leading conversations around connection, relationships, and emotional health. That aligns directly with my vision for Filled Cups, which is meant to be an educational brand as much as a community gathering space.

In the near term, I'm developing a leadership workshop offering for corporate teams, leveraging my background to teach topics like empathetic management, bridging cultural gaps, and fostering psychological safety.

To support myself right now, I recently started a 10-hour-a-week fractional role, as well as a super fun part-time gig with a local Charlotte company that hosts pop-up community classes at breweries and neighborhood spots. I work about three hours per shift and get to assist with classes on everything from matcha making and mahjong to improv, gardening, and sourdough baking.

It doesn't pay a lot, but I love learning the operational side of a growing small business, especially since I was already a fan and customer of theirs. Alongside that, I continue running my Filled Cups events, keeping my workload in structured time blocks so I don't compromise my rest.

I've also embraced the idea that trying new things slows down our perception of time as adults. I've taken up roller skating, joined a West Coast swing class, signed up for a tea circle, and attended a silent disco at a local museum.

I'm truly having the time of my life right now. I may not be earning what I used to make in corporate, but my time and peace of mind are worth far more than that paycheck.

For the first time in years, my work and my daily life feel entirely aligned with my core values. I'm proud of myself for not rushing back into a corporate job out of panic, and for giving myself the space to reimagine what's possible.

If you are navigating a transition of your own, give yourself permission to pause, breathe, and step off the expected track. Sometimes the ending you resist the most is the very beginning you've been waiting for.