When the Work Disappears, the Demons Appear
Imagine you're at a coffee shop where you've been a regular for years—you know the baristas, have your usual table, feel like part of the community. Then suddenly, you're told you can't come back. Now you're standing outside, watching through the window as life continues without you, wondering if the people inside are talking about why you're no longer welcome.
This is what layoffs feel like for many designers. One day you're part of the creative process, contributing to something meaningful. The next, you're on the outside and isolated while former colleagues continue in the warm, collaborative spaces you once called home. The sting isn't just professional—it's deeply personal, because mockery and judgment require an audience, and you can't shake the feeling that you've become the main character in someone else's cautionary tale. In reality, you are the main character in your own isolation.
The Perfectionist's Paradox
I’ve lost count of the times I’ve been laid off in my career, and it took me a long time to realize that I was far from alone. When unemployment strikes, our minds become both our greatest asset and our worst enemy. The same creative thinking that makes us valuable designers can spiral into destructive self-talk and a down a spiral of anxiety. We convince ourselves we're frauds, that talent should guarantee employment, that three layoffs equal three strikes in some cosmic game that only you are playing.
But here's the truth your anxious brain won't tell you: right now is not the end of your story. Depression and anxiety are heavyweight opponents, but they don't have to knock out your creative spirit.
The Appearance Trap
When confidence crumbles, we often reach for quick fixes—hair dye becomes armor against aging, polished portfolios become shields against rejection. We focus so intently on hiding our perceived flaws that we forget to showcase our actual strengths. It's like spending all your interview prep time perfecting your appearance while neglecting to practice answering those common but annoying interview questions.
The irony? Those cargo-shorts-wearing foosball-playing engineers getting hired left and right aren't worried about gray hair or perfect presentations. They're focused on solving problems, and maybe that's where our energy belongs too.
Building Your Creative Life Raft
Survival isn't about avoiding the storm—it's about building sustainable practices that keep you afloat when the waters get rough. Daily creative routines have become my anchors during uncertainty. Whether it's a morning sketch, an evening design experiment, or simply maintaining your craft during downtime, consistency beats perfection every time.
Think of it like tending a garden during drought. You may not see immediate results, but you're keeping the roots alive for when conditions improve.
The Real Warning Signs
When recruiters promise you can "build a UX practice from the ground up," hear this: you're likely being set up as a solo missionary in a hostile land. Companies that truly value design don't ask one person to evangelize an entire practice—they invest in teams and support systems.
Your mental health matters more than any single opportunity. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is walk away from roles that would drain your creativity and confidence.
Moving Forward
Remember: your worth isn't measured by your employment status, your age, or how perfectly you perform in interviews. It's built into your ability to see problems differently, to create solutions that don't yet exist, and to bring empathy to experiences others might overlook.
The shadows are temporary. Your creativity is permanent. Let me know what you think.
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ICYMI: Some Freebies and Other Goodies:
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