On layoffs, “Exceeded Expectations,” and the beautifully messy art of figuring out what comes next.
So here’s the thing nobody tells you about getting laid off: it’s like being dumped, but the breakup text comes from a Zoom meeting and there’s severance paperwork instead of closure.
In December 2025, my role at Main Street America was eliminated. Not because I sucked at my job—they made that very clear, bless them—but because organizations do what organizations do when budgets get tight. They restructure. They pivot. They eliminate positions. It’s business, never personal, except it always feels personal when you’re the one packing up your digital files and updating your LinkedIn headline at 11pm on a Tuesday.
Oh, and did I mention? I got “Exceeded Expectations” on my annual review like two months before this happened. So yeah, turns out you can exceed all the expectations and still get shown the door. Capitalism is hilarious like that.
And now? Now I’m staring at this massive fucking mountain called “looking for work.”
You know the mountain I’m talking about. It’s the one made of:
Applications that disappear into the void. You spend three hours tailoring your cover letter, researching the company’s mission statement, making sure your CV tells the exact right story. You hit submit. Crickets. Not even an automated rejection email. Just silence. Did it even arrive? Is there a human on the other end? Or are you just screaming your qualifications into the algorithm abyss?
The identity crisis. For years, when someone asked what I do, I had an answer. Program Coordinator. Event logistics expert. The person who makes sure 1,000 people get fed at the right time in the right place. Now? “I’m a freelance consultant” feels true but also like I’m trying to convince myself. “I’m between opportunities” sounds like LinkedIn corporate speak. “I’m unemployed but make it fashion” is closer to the truth.
The financial math that doesn’t math. Freelancing keeps the lights on, but let me tell you, “hustling” hits different when it’s not a side gig but your entire income strategy. You’re juggling client work, applications, networking calls, and somehow also trying to launch other projects because why not add another impossible thing to the pile?
The emotional whiplash. Monday: “I’m so qualified, someone’s gonna snatch me up any day now.” Wednesday: “Maybe I should just become a full-time plant parent.” Friday: “Actually, I’m building something amazing and this transition is a gift.” Sunday: “LOL what if I never work again?” Repeat weekly.
The performance of professionalism. You’re supposed to be “networking” but not desperate. Available but not too available. Confident but humble. Bilingual, adaptable, 7+ years of experience coordinating everything from intimate dinners to massive international events, but also somehow entry-level enough to not intimidate hiring managers. It’s exhausting.
Here’s what I’m learning though, somewhere between application #47 and existential crisis #12:
This mountain isn’t actually a punishment. It’s a clarifying force.
When you’re employed, it’s easy to stay comfortable. To not ask if this role actually aligns with where you want to go. To tolerate bullshit because hey, steady paycheck. But when the decision gets made for you? When you’re suddenly forced to articulate your value to strangers over and over? You get real clear, real fast about what you actually want.
And what I want is this: I want to work with people who value logistics as an art form, who understand that feeding people well is about dignity and culture, not just calories. I want to coordinate programs that matter, events that bring people together, systems that actually work. I want to use my bilingual brain, my hospitality heart, and my operational precision to build something that didn’t exist before I showed up.
I want to stop performing and start building.
So yeah, I’m climbing this mountain. Some days I’m sprinting. Some days I’m crawling. Some days I’m sitting down and eating a sandwich halfway up and wondering what the fuck I’m doing. But I’m climbing it in public because I’m done pretending that transitions are supposed to be graceful and linear and Instagram-ready.
They’re messy. They’re humbling. They’re also kind of hilarious if you squint.
And here’s the part where I get bold and blunt with you:
If you’re reading this and you need someone who can manage the impossible, coordinate the chaotic, and do it in two languages with dark humor and zero drama—call me.
If your organization needs someone who’s produced 50+ cultural events, improved operational efficiency by 30%, and knows how to make magic happen on tight budgets and tighter timelines—seriously, call me.
If you’re tired of hiring people who talk a big game but can’t actually execute—I’m right here. Let’s talk.
I’m not just climbing this mountain to get to the other side. I’m climbing it to find the people crazy enough to build something beautiful at the top.
So. Who’s hiring?
Graciasss por leerme,
Besitos 😘
Génesis 🍒❣️
