Somewhere In My Fragile Ego, I’m A-Okay With Getting Laid-Off Five Times

Truth time. I have five layoffs under my belt. And I’m only 30ish. I barely had time to learn the names of my coworkers before each place I worked at decided to show me the door. Just my luck.
I’m gainfully employed now (*knock on wood), but I’ve considered moonlighting as a professional laid-offer (is that a word?). At night time I crusade the mean streets of Wall Street and offer a dry shoulder for people to cry on. To corny? Yeah … Or I start the Laid-Off Olympics. Anyone want to challenge me? Yeah, I didn’t think so.

Full disclosure: If you asked me how I was doing in the first few days of getting laid-off, I’d probably be whining through thick, snotty mucus that the universe is out to get me. I start panicking because I can’t turn to monopoly money to pay my very real adult bills. I hate on my former coworkers because I think “why me and not them?” Am I an asshole for thinking that? Being a child of Asian immigrants have its challenges. By 25, I should have two degrees. By 30 I should be up for promotion. By 40 I should be a top VP executive. And on it goes. My fragile ego is held up with a ton of tape as I try to front like I’m above it amongst my peers. When I do this, I feel like everyone can see the truth and label me as a failure, or worse, feel sorry for me.
And you know what? As much as I roll my eyes when I hear “It’ll get better. Keep applying”, it’s true.
But seriously, I know I’ll be okay if I ever got laid-off again because my parents haven’t changed the locks on their doors to keep me out.

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