Well… What Now?

Dear reader, I am not writing to you today with any sort of snarky commentary on my favorite commercials from the Super Bowl or insight on what social media managers can be doing to improve their workflow. Today, I want to be a little selfish and talk about me.

In November, I got laid off.

It wasn’t the first time I’d been through a reorg or a pivot or a "strategic realignment." In fact, a lot of my career has been built in the middle of chaos—stepping into messes and sorting them out, building clarity out of confusion. I’ve led big strategies, solved complex problems, helped teams stay standing through restructures, layoffs, and public disasters. But this time, I was on the other side of the equation.

And I was tired.

Tired of fixing things behind the scenes and rarely receiving the credit. Tired of flagging issues months before they happened and then having to clean them up anyway. And most of all, tired of proving I knew my shit over and over again but still always defending myself. I spent a lot of time trying to make advancements in the esports scene for women and underrepresented genders, but the truth is it is still a really hard place to not be a man. Even those who fancy themselves as allies often fall into the very behaviors that they criticize. 

I needed space to remind myself I didn’t get this far for no reason.

This break became a very healing opportunity for me as I took on freelance work with clients who appreciated me and genuinely appreciated what I brought to the table. However, much of that work has come with a caveat: heavy, restrictive NDAs. So much of the work I’ve done over the past few months has been rewarding but confidential—things that made a real impact, but can’t be shown on a portfolio or resume. There are whole programs I built from scratch that I’m incredibly proud of, and they’ve quietly disappeared into internal documentation that will never see the light of day. And I love it! I’ve always liked figuring out a puzzle, but I’m a human, and I crave human interaction and affirmation sometimes.

So when I found myself jobless in November, having been here before and knowing the current state of the market, I decided to take a little pivot myself and shake up my resume. I took a sharp left turn and started working at a bridal store.

Yes, a bridal store.

I thought it would be fun. Light. A break from the crisis work. I imagined happy tears and sparkly dresses, clients that were happy with me because I made them feel special and beautiful, and not because I helped save their brand from imploding.

And it has been joyful, in moments. I’ve gotten to style people for one of the most important days of their lives. I’ve zipped up gowns and fastened veils and seen that little sparkle in someone’s eye when they say yes to the dress. But even here—especially here—things are complicated.

Global tariffs are shifting, and our gowns are made overseas. Suddenly, we’re navigating rising costs, import delays, and brides who are (understandably!) panicking about timelines. It turns out there’s no such thing as an escape from complexity. Sequins can have consequences. Lace is laced with its own complications. Even tulle has supply chain issues.

And when I’m not hauling gowns into a dressing room, I’m applying for jobs, but the job search has been… brutal. The market is flooded with talented, laid-off professionals, and every role I apply to seems to have 400+ applicants. I’ve rewritten my resume countless different ways. I’ve networked, pitched, applied, interviewed, gotten close, and then—nothing.

“There are still days I feel invisible, or behind, or like the universe has put me on pause.”

But I’ve also learned a lot. 

I’ve learned how to advocate for myself in interviews, even when I can’t name the brands  I helped steer through a storm. I’ve learned how to tell my story in a way that makes sense, even with a bridal boutique in the middle of my digital strategy career. I’ve learned that I am not my job title. And I’ve remembered how much I actually love what I do—when I get to do it.

I titled this blog “Well… What Now?” because I feel like that’s the question I ask myself every week. There are still days I feel invisible, or behind, or like the universe has put me on pause. I’ve always been an ambitious woman and I’ve always found a way to turn my limes into margaritas, but this year seems to only be throwing me tequila shots.

But I’m still here. Still growing. Still writing the next chapter—even if I don’t quite know what it looks like yet.

Thanks for being part of the journey.