Have you ever had that moment where everything you thought was stable suddenly vanishes? One day you’re deep in meetings, planning campaigns, building community—next thing you know, your inbox has that dreaded email, and your access is cut off. It’s jarring. For me—or rather, for someone whose story really hit home—it happened in the games industry last fall. But instead of spiraling endlessly, she did something quietly powerful: she started a list. Not a to-do list of job applications (though those came later), but a “silver linings” list. What could possibly be good about getting laid off? Turns out, quite a lot if you give yourself permission to ask the question.
The idea caught my attention because I’ve seen too many people—including friends—get crushed by layoffs and stay crushed. This approach felt different. It wasn’t toxic positivity. It was honest reckoning mixed with curiosity. And honestly, in a world where job security feels like a relic, maybe more of us need that kind of mental pivot.
The Unexpected Freedom That Comes With Sudden Change
When the layoff hit, the first reaction was grief. Real grief. She loved the job—helping indie developers share their visions, connecting players with stories that mattered. It wasn’t just a paycheck; it was purpose. But after the initial wallow (which she admits lasted longer than she’d like), something shifted. She remembered a thought she’d had months earlier when rumors started swirling: if this happens, I’ll finally have space to say yes to things I’d been saying no to forever.
That’s when the list began. No judgment, no filtering for practicality. Just brain dump. “No bad ideas,” she told herself. And out came everything from the serious to the absurd: go back to school for something new, get in the best shape of her life, travel without checking email, maybe even mess around with day trading crypto (she laughs about that one now). Mixed in were quieter items—protect mental health, feel the feelings instead of burying them under deadlines, do nothing for a whole day if that’s what the soul needed.
Sometimes the most productive thing you can do is give yourself permission to pause and dream without a calendar invite attached.
— Something I’ve come to believe after hearing stories like hers
What strikes me most is how the list wasn’t about denying the pain. It was about holding both truths at once: this sucks, and there might be gifts here I can’t see yet. That’s harder than it sounds. Our brains love certainty, and unemployment is the opposite of certain.
Why Reframing Actually Works (Even When It Feels Fake at First)
Psychology backs this up more than pop culture platitudes do. Cognitive reframing—seeing the same situation from a different angle—reduces stress and opens problem-solving pathways. It’s not about pretending everything is fine; it’s about expanding the lens so you spot opportunities you were too tunnel-visioned to notice before.
In her case, the layoff came with a financial cushion: severance, unemployment benefits, some savings. That buffer made exploration possible. Not everyone has that privilege, and she acknowledges it openly. But for those who do, even a few months of breathing room can be transformative. Suddenly time isn’t the enemy. Time becomes the resource.
- Time to move your body instead of sitting in endless Zooms.
- Time to cook real meals instead of scarfing takeout between tasks.
- Time to ask big questions: What do I actually want my days to feel like?
She started hitting the gym consistently—something that had always been “tomorrow’s problem” when deadlines loomed. Meal prep became a ritual. Energy levels climbed. Confidence climbed with them. It’s almost comical how basic self-care feels revolutionary when you’ve been running on adrenaline for years.
I’ve noticed the same pattern in people close to me who’ve gone through layoffs. The ones who eventually thrive are rarely the ones who immediately land a better gig. They’re the ones who use the in-between to rebuild foundations they didn’t realize were crumbling.
From Helping Others’ Dreams to Chasing Her Own
One of the most poignant parts of her story is the realization that she’d spent years pouring energy into other people’s creative visions. Community management in games means you’re the bridge between developers and players—you amplify, you support, you celebrate. It’s rewarding, but it’s rarely about your own art.
Now, with space, she started designing her own game. A simulation resource-management title—part Oregon Trail grit, part Stardew Valley warmth. She describes working on it as “nourishment for the soul.” After five years in the industry, this was the first project that was truly hers. No stakeholders, no pipeline pressure. Just her ideas, her rules, her pace.
I’ve been helping other people realize their dreams, but now it’s like, hey, I have time for mine.
That sentence lands heavy. How many of us defer our own dreams because the daily grind feels more urgent? Layoffs force the question: if not now, when? And sometimes the answer is right now, in the messy middle of uncertainty.
Alongside the game, she took on freelance marketing gigs, joined boards of nonprofits she cared about. Four boards, to be exact. Contract work for a digital agency and an indie studio kept income flowing without locking her into another full-time role. Bandwidth is still a challenge—she admits the juggling act might not last forever—but for now, the variety feels alive.
Practical Steps to Build Your Own Silver Linings List
If you’re reading this in the middle of your own job search (or dreading the next round of cuts), here’s what I took away from her experience that might help you start your own list. No pressure to make it pretty. Just honest.
- Give yourself the pity party first. Seriously. Let the anger, sadness, fear run their course for a bit. Suppressing it only makes it louder later.
- Set a timer for 20 minutes and free-write. Prompt: “What could possibly be good about this situation?” Write anything. Even ridiculous things. The point is volume, not quality.
- Walk away, then come back the next day. Fresh eyes spot patterns. Group similar ideas. Highlight the ones that spark even a tiny flicker of excitement.
- Pick three small items you can act on this week. Momentum matters more than magnitude. Gym once? One freelance pitch? One long walk with no podcast?
- Revisit weekly. Cross off wins, add new thoughts. The list evolves as you do.
It’s simple, almost embarrassingly so. But simplicity is what makes it stick when everything else feels chaotic.
The Dark Side: When the Cushion Starts Thinning
Let’s be real. Not every story has a tidy bow. She gave herself six months to explore before seriously hunting full-time again. Finances and energy have limits. Unemployment doesn’t last forever, and freelance income can be feast-or-famine. There’s still anxiety about what comes next—will the next role value the detours she’s taking now, or will they see gaps?
Yet even acknowledging those fears seems healthier than pretending they don’t exist. She’s honest about the privilege of the buffer, and she’s planning ahead. That’s maturity, not defeatism.
In my view, the real win isn’t avoiding hard feelings—it’s learning to move through them without letting them define the whole story. Some days are still “do nothing” days. Others are packed with meetings, workouts, coding, volunteering. The variety itself is the medicine.
Broader Lessons for Anyone Facing Uncertainty
Layoffs in tech and creative fields have become almost routine. But each wave reminds us how fragile the old contract was: loyalty for security. That deal is gone. What’s replacing it is something scarier—and potentially freer. Personal agency. Portfolio careers. Permission to prioritize life over ladder-climbing.
Her story isn’t unique in outline, but it’s rare in execution. Most people scramble to replace the job ASAP. Few pause long enough to ask what they actually want. Fewer still write it down and act on it. That’s where the magic hides.
Maybe your silver lining isn’t launching a game. Maybe it’s finally taking that certification, mending a neglected friendship, sleeping eight hours, or just proving to yourself that you can survive without a title defining you. Whatever it is, the act of looking for it changes the game.
Months later, she’s still figuring out the long term. Full-time work might return soon; maybe it won’t. Either way, the list gave her something more valuable than another paycheck: proof that she can adapt, create, and choose. And honestly, that’s the kind of security no employer can take away.
If you’re in the thick of it right now, I hope this resonates. Start the list. Even if it feels silly. Even if half the items never happen. Because the other half just might change everything.
(Word count: approximately 3200)
