One year ago tomorrow, I got laid off from Invesco.
The next morning, I posted on LinkedIn about how much I loved working there.
Not because I was performing gratitude. Not because I was in denial.
Because I genuinely meant it.
That is apparently not a normal response to a layoff.
But sometimes you already knew it was time.
The fintech business had been sold to The Carlyle Group. Invesco wanted to refocus on core asset management. A very expensive PowerPoint somewhere justified all of it with phrases like "strategic alignment" and "long-term operational focus."
Also, let’s be honest: private equity is not historically famous for looking at marketing departments and saying, “You know what this company needs? More brand storytelling.”
According to McKinsey’s private equity research, PE firms are heavily focused on EBITDA growth, margin expansion, operational efficiency, and scalability.
Which means marketers, even revenue-generating ones, can occasionally end up in an awkward existential debate where they are still viewed as “overhead” instead of growth engines.
Meanwhile, marketers are sitting there quietly whispering: “…but we literally generate pipeline.”
To be fair, I understand both sides now more than I used to.
Private equity moves fast. They look for leverage points. They question everything. And when numbers drive the conversation, functions tied directly to short-term financial metrics tend to win the room first.
Historically, a lot of PE value creation came from aggressive cost optimization and operational streamlining. Which, translated loosely into corporate English, sometimes means: “Can we do the same thing with fewer people and less budget?”
And yet, Bain & Company has written extensively about the industry’s evolution as firms increasingly realize that cost-cutting eventually hits a ceiling, and sustainable growth actually requires investment in brand, customer acquisition, and revenue generation.
Business is business.
Ironically, the same week I got laid off, I won Marketing Executive of the Year.
I'm not sure the universe has ever made a point more clearly.
I took a few weeks to breathe. I tried to take more time off, I really did. But the opportunities the universe kept sending my way were too exciting to ignore.
So, I dove into consulting.
And for the first time in years, I actually had time to invest in people.
I joined Wednesday Women. I showed up to things I would have previously declined because my calendar was already a crime scene. I networked without an agenda.
Turns out, that is when the best connections happen
My calendar stopped looking like a hostage situation. No endless internal meetings. No "quick syncs" requiring seventeen stakeholders. No PowerPoint decks named FINAL_v12_ACTUALFINAL_USETHISONE.
Albeit, you kind of start to miss that stuff after a while.
I had something rare: time to think.
And once the noise disappeared, life got surprisingly interesting.
One month I was helping an oil and gas investment firm think through investor positioning. The next I was working with an AI company moving at approximately the speed of light. Somewhere in between I became genuinely educated on oral fluid drug testing products, which is a sentence I never expected to write.
That is the thing nobody tells you about career detours: they make you bigger.
Not more impressive. Not more important.
Just bigger.
The timing of the layoff, as it turns out, couldn't have been better. I got to spend real time with my parents in Pure Michigan. Long lunches. Unhurried conversations. One of the most beautiful places in the world, with the people who matter most, and not a single meeting pulling me away.
Northern Michigan
I had been living so fast I forgot that was possible.
I also learned quickly who truly has your back when the title disappears. Some people vanish quietly. Some surprise you entirely. A very small group checks in consistently, opens doors, and reminds you who you are before you fully remember it yourself.
I can count those people on two hands. I will never forget them.
And I have my husband, who stayed steady through every pivot, every "so what exactly is my life?" conversation and made me laugh hard enough to temporarily forget anything was ever wrong.
Wildly underrated medicine.
Somewhere along the way, I landed at one of the best kept secrets. Smart people, good culture, adults who actually enjoy working together. Genuinely rare.
So, if you are navigating a layoff right now, here is my honest advice: Do not automatically label it a failure.
Sometimes the thing you thought was permanent gets removed so you finally have room to become something else.
And occasionally, something better.
What is the best advice you would give someone navigating a layoff or career pivot? Drop it in the comments.
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