Last year, an unexpected email arrived in my inbox telling me my position had come to an end. There was no conversation, no explanation—just a quiet notice that felt strangely disconnected from the reality of my day. Even more confusing, all my access to internal systems remained active, as though nothing had changed. Unsure of what to make of it, I kept showing up in small ways. I joined virtual meetings, contributed where I could, and followed the familiar rhythm that had shaped so much of my routine.

Over time, I realized I wasn’t holding on out of denial. I stayed involved because I genuinely cared about the work and the people behind it, and I needed a moment to process what had happened. Each meeting offered a reminder of how much I had grown, how far my skills had carried me, and how capable I truly was. Slowly, the fog lifted, and I began to see my own worth more clearly than ever before.

Then, one afternoon, a message from the CEO appeared, asking why I was still active on the platform. Instead of reacting with fear or defensiveness, I chose honesty. I explained the situation exactly as it happened. To my surprise, the CEO responded with appreciation for my professionalism and transparency. We ended up discussing communication, clarity, and how essential it is to treat people with respect—especially during transitions. That conversation became unexpectedly grounding, offering a sense of humanity that had been missing from the initial message.

Although I didn’t return to the role, I walked away with confidence and genuine closure. I learned that caring for yourself matters far more than any title or login. The experience taught me to trust uncertain chapters and to honor my own voice along the way. Not long afterward, a new opportunity found me—one where my presence was valued from the start. Moving forward, I carry the reminder that every ending holds a lesson, and every lesson helps light the path to a new beginning.