Rebuilding your narrative after redundancy

“I was let go.” “I was made redundant.” “My role was impacted.”

It sounds passive and done to us but it’s so easy to say. Somewhere in the grammar the event stops being something that happened and starts being something you are. A story about ourselves as if we are out of control.

In session one of Beyond the Panic, our free three-part series we run for communications professionals going through redundancy we covered what redundancy does to the body and our nervous system. When we move on from that initial phase of panic it often becomes all about the narrative. Specifically, about rebuilding the narrative underneath the words.

In session one we talked about the narrative around how the market is brutal, and the noise telling you it’s hopeless out there. That narrative doesn’t stay in your head. It turns up as apology, as over-explaining, as a CV that reads perfectly well while you sound slightly embarrassed when delivering your story.

One story, told three ways

Most people job hunting believe they need three separate accounts of themselves. One for the recruiter, one for LinkedIn, and one for the friend who asks how it’s going. You need one. What changes is the nuance.

The first version is the one in your own head. It’s the foundation, and if it’s built on shame the other two will include it however well written they are.

The second is the interview version. The same story, with ownership and forward motion. Nothing defended.

The third is LinkedIn. Public, short, forward-facing, an opening line and how you show up.

Build the first one honestly and the other two are edits. Skip it and you spend months performing something you don’t believe. In our third session, Jo Jamieson will talk more about the specifics around LinkedIn.

The core story

Three core messages, and they carry across all three versions.

What’s true. The facts, plainly. No spin, no apology.

What’s mine. Your through-line. What you’re known for, what you bring, the thing that came with you and is still there. Redundancy didn’t touch it.

What’s next. Your direction of travel.

Here’s an example:

What’s true: For example, “My role was cut in a restructure in June, along with most of my team.”

What’s mine: For example, “I’m the person who calmly handles crisis communications with standard playbooks when it matters. I’ve done it for multiple types of crisis situations.”

What’s next: For example, “I’m looking for a place that’s serious about crisis communications and wants someone to own it.”

Then the three tellings:

Own head: For example, “My job ended. What I’m good at didn’t.”

Interview: For example, “My role was cut in a restructure in June. I’m proud of what I built there, we had a standard crisis communications process and playbook which the executive leadership relied on. I’m looking for a team that wants someone to own crisis communications properly.”

LinkedIn: For example, “I manage crisis communications with standard playbooks in a calm and decisive manner, and I’m looking for the next place to do it.”

One story, three angles. That is all a pitch has ever been.

Direction, not destination

You don’t need to know where you’ll land to speak confidently about where you’re going. What’s next is a direction, and this is often where people freeze.

They think the whole plan has to be resolved before they’re allowed to say anything at all, so they say nothing, or they hedge, and the hedging reads as uncertainty about their own worth rather than about the market. I’m moving towards work that does X is a complete answer. It’s allowed to be the whole answer. Start with the simple step of writing your own key messages, then tailor for the situation.

Sign up to our next session on leveraging LinkedIn here.