Note: this post was originally written and shared via social media on May 2, 2023.
As many of you know, I was impacted by the Spotify layoffs at the end of January. After the initial processing period and stages of grief, I had no choice but to face the massive question mark standing in front of me.
When you decide to take something you love and turn it into your career, there’s no going back. Those two things will always be intrinsically linked, and it becomes increasingly hard to separate your professional life from your personal passions. Now, I’m incredibly grateful to have a career in music, and I don’t take it lightly. But the high highs come with low lows, and losing my shiny new job at everybody’s dream company absolutely crushed me. There was a moment where I didn’t care about music, and that terrified me. Not only because it meant that I’d have to start over in my career but because it had become such a huge part of my identity. On one hand, it was almost funny how wildly off-brand it was for me to just not have a job. But on the other hand, I had spent the last decade cultivating this persona as a high-achieving, passion-driven, career-obsessed music lover, and suddenly, I wasn’t sure if I was any of those things.
Once the dust settled, I realized that even without a job, my life still felt full. My wonderful partner, our dog, the beautiful place we live, my supportive friends, and trips both big and small all easily filled the hole that work had left behind. I paid more attention to how things felt and what they brought to my day. I visited my family. I took long walks during the work day. I ate a LOT of sympathy cheese. I skied for the first time in years. I went to Guatemala for three weeks. I got up. I got up again. I kept going. And eventually, I listened to music.
I love what my career in music has brought to my life, and I’m so beyond excited and grateful that I get to continue on this path. But this experience has been a sobering reminder of the delicate balance that must exist so you don’t lose yourself. Clock out when your day is over. Enjoy your weekends and holidays. Take your PTO. No really, take your PTO. Try new things. Cultivate your hobbies. Spend time with loved ones, and make sure you’re high up on that list. There is no reward for not living your life. Work hard, but keep the fleeting nature of it all in perspective.
We often talk about the importance of your network, but the emphasis on growing and maintaining it always felt forced to me, like I was a farmer tending to my connection crops. I’ve typically considered myself not great at it—I let too much time go by in between conversations, and I get self-conscious about anything that feels too transactional. However, this experience has taught me that connections are made and impressions are forged not through big networking events and formal elbow-rubbing but through the in-between moments of how you show up to the world every day. Take pride in what you do, lend a hand when you can, and go out of your way to be good to others. Not because you’re expecting to get something out of it, but because it’s the right thing to do. We will all find ourselves in need of support from our community at some point, and I was very humbled by the response from mine. Thank you to everyone who reached out, shared kind words, sent me open roles, or offered to help in some way. It truly meant more to me than you could ever know.
The past three months have been a whirlwind, and I’ve felt every emotion imaginable. But what came as a pleasant surprise to me was that the overwhelming one was grateful. Grateful for all the things that went right and everything that helped me find my footing on shaky ground. I’m lucky in so many ways, and I’m holding space for the staggering amount of others who have had to go through this experience without some of the privileges that I have. I believe that if a door is opened for you, it’s your responsibility to hold it open for someone else, especially if they’ve got their hands full. If I can help, let me know.
I’ve been ruminating on the phrase “don’t look back in anger” for some time now as a way to reframe the way I memorialize objectively difficult events, and I’m holding onto it as I close this chapter and move onto the next. Hopefully it resonates with someone out there too.
Thanks again to everyone who has shown up for me over the last few months. I love you all, and I’m excited to share what’s next!