The Power of Presence: Finding Peace in the People Who Matter — A Reflection on 2024

The holidays are often celebrated as a time for joy, connection, and tradition. But for me, they’re arriving at the tail end of an absolutely terrible year.

2024: A Year I'm Ready to Leave Behind.

This year has brought me to my knees, both physically and emotionally, in ways I never expected. Losing my job in late 2023 made me hopeful for 2024, but after finishing the year at 1,727 applications and only 3 interviews, saying it's emotionally exhausting is an understatement. All three of those interviews went to the 2nd round. Two of them told me that I was over-qualified and one told me that the CEO was too busy to interview me and decided to "do the job himself." I also had more interviews than my other unemployed friends, which in and of itself, is scary. It’s safe to say I’m over 2024. Onward and upward we go.

Although it was not the first time I was laid off, this one, I knew, was going to be different. It felt different. With the introduction of AI and its ability to replace marketers with algorithms and so-called "personalized" content, the leaders at my former company made it clear that we were replaceable and, frankly, useless. One of them even had the nerve to tell the company that he uses AI to generate bedtime stories for his small children. It was a weird spot to be in, being told I’m useless and not needed, especially when my previous company’s CEO had referred to me as "brilliant" and the company voted me as the runner-up for the 2019 Marketer Of The Year, which I only lost because it was a "woman's turn" to win it. To be called "brilliant" at a company that is 33x the size of the company calling you "useless"—that’s a hard pill to swallow, and frankly, it upset me, but that's the world we live in.

The sudden severing of my identity, my routine, and my sense of purpose—it’s a loss that leaves you questioning everything, much like the grief of losing someone you love. Yet, through all of this, I’ve also been forced to reflect deeply on relationships, priorities, and how I want to move forward.

What stands out is this: empathy matters more than ever. Whether you’re navigating the fallout of a hard year, the stress of the holidays, or conflicts with loved ones, approaching situations with understanding and respect can make all the difference.

Witnessing the Death of a Career

As I’ve reflected on the last 15 months, I’ve realized that losing a job is very much like experiencing your own professional death. At first, people reach out, offer help, and want to be there for you—the professional equivalent of bringing over a casserole dish to a grieving family. They’ll send messages, offer to connect you with their network, or just check in to see how you’re doing. It’s touching, and it helps. For a while. That’s phase one.

But then, just like with grief, those people start to disappear, and we enter the second phase of the "job death." Fewer and fewer people reach out, and some continue to offer that same "casserole", even though it may not be edible (sorry to stick with this analogy...) and the offers of legitimate help dwindle. The silence grows louder, and you begin to feel like an afterthought. It’s in this phase that you start to wonder if your friends have forgotten about you or if they’re just busy. It’s a very weird spot to be in.

People don’t usually do this on purpose; most of us are busy. It’s just life. But it’s hard for the job seeker to keep in touch with former colleagues and friends, because many times, the communication feels one-sided. There’s a fine line between wanting to stay in touch and feeling like you’re being annoying. There's also only so many times you can reach out before you'll change the relationship with whomever you're trying to keep in touch with.

Now, I’ve entered the third phase—where I’ve become a distant memory. It’s as though people are saying, “Oh, remember him? He was nice.” A former colleague recently told me I was a great marketer. While meant as a compliment, those words felt like daggers to my heart. Hearing, "You were such a great marketer," felt as though they were speaking about someone who no longer exists—someone who can no longer be a marketer and is no longer "in the pool of eligibility," as my late friend, Glenn Fernandez would have said. It made me feel like I’ve been laid to rest in the Cemetery of Digital Marketers.

Everyone goes on with their lives. A few might stop by to visit—a quick text or a comment on LinkedIn—but for most, I’m no longer a thought in their daily lives. Like a physical death, this can make those of us seeking a job feel like we've passed away. It’s a hard reality to face, but one that’s given me a clearer view of who truly cares and who was only there for convenience.

When Life Feels Heavy, Empathy Lightens the Load

The holidays can amplify the weight of a tough year. They bring people together, often putting our struggles and tensions under a microscope. For me, this year has been about learning how to carry emotional weight I never thought I’d have to bear.

Here’s the thing: I’m not upset about not having a job—seriously. What bothers me are the conversations that happen about me but without me (and if you’re one of the people who’ve done that, don’t worry—I know 😜).

What I’m building with Falcon Design Studios is far more meaningful than anything a traditional organization could provide. I control my own income, set my own goals, and choose who I work with. Plus, this entire business has become my professional portfolio.

You want to see my SEO skills in action? You’re looking right at it. Curious about my writing or how my messaging could look? It’s all right here. Wondering if I’m qualified to lead a brand marketing team or a team of graphic designers? Again, just click around. This website has become my professional portfolio.

The Old Corporate Life Stinks

Shocker: I am not looking to go back to a corporate setting where upper management demands a report that takes three hours to prepare but insists it be delivered within an hour—causing unnecessary stress and anxiety for everyone involved. I’ve lived that life, and it once had me so stressed that my parents had to drive me to and from work because the man I worked for had completely broken me.

I’m done with the days of having a boss—and this literally happened—calling me into their enormous 1,500-square-foot corner office at 8 AM on a Thursday because I didn’t answer my phone at 7:30 PM the night before. Or the time my grandmother passed away. Despite everyone knowing I was at her funeral and unavailable, my phone buzzed incessantly. My boss called me about a dozen times before texting a group chat about a report he absolutely "had to have," as I stood in front of my grandmother’s coffin, crying.

Being at my grandmother's funeral, ugly crying over the loss of one of my favorite people, and having that memory tied to a selfish man is something I can never forget. But it was also a learning moment. I remember thinking, I will never do this to anyone, ever.

That life is unacceptable to me, and I will never entertain going back to it.

Sharing Feedback and Showing Grace

Through these experiences, I’ve realized how much heartache we can avoid by showing each other grace. It’s easy to react out of pain or frustration, but empathy—truly seeing and understanding someone else’s perspective—offers a way through the tension. Offering unsolicited opinions without understanding the full context never helps and is rarely received well.

Instead of reacting immediately to holiday stress or personal conflicts, I’ve learned to pause and ask: What’s behind their actions? Are they feeling unseen, unheard, or undervalued? Do they think their opinion is the only one that matters? These questions open the door to understanding rather than conflict.

In my previous blog post, Empathy in Action: How to Support Unemployed Friends, I discussed ways to approach a friend or family member navigating unemployment. Just recently, someone started a conversation with me for the second or third time, suggesting that I haven’t "expanded" my job search enough—particularly to include jobs in Manhattan.

First and foremost, every unemployed person has the right to decide where they want to work and what they want to do. The notion that "beggars can’t be choosers" does not apply to job seekers.

For me, in this particular case, New York City is not a choice that makes sense for my family. Beyond the 14-16 hour days, the greatest loss would be the time I get to spend with my family. Watching my kids get on and off the bus and run out of school into my arms is something I cherish deeply. I missed so many moments before the work-from-home era: class parties, playing outside in the afternoons, and spontaneous stops for Dunkin’ or ice cream on the way home.

I understand that many parents still don’t get those moments, and I know how difficult that is—I’ve been there. But now that I’m able to be part of those moments on a regular basis, I am so grateful that I've had the opportunity to experience those moments with my kids.

Communication is a Lifeline

This year has taught me that clear communication is a lifeline, whether in professional settings or personal relationships. Misunderstandings thrive in silence, while honest, respectful conversations have the power to heal wounds before they fester. However, I’ve also learned that even the clearest communication can fall short. Sometimes, the issue isn’t a lack of understanding but a lack of willingness to find common ground—because, too often, people are more focused on getting their way or forcing their opinion on you, rather than seeking a solution.

Recently, I came across a Facebook post that resonated deeply:

"One thing I made peace with in 2024 is that I don’t have to. I don’t have to go above and beyond for others. I don’t have to always be the bigger person. I don’t have to fix what I didn’t break. I don’t have to show up for those who don’t show up for me. And I definitely don’t have to sacrifice my own happiness to please everyone else."

Moving Forward in the Face of Hardship

The quote "Age has nothing to do with accomplishment, and achievement has nothing to do with years" was shared by one of the priests at the funeral of my friend, Steve

Fernandez in 2016. It's something I’ll never forget. Steve was tragically killed in a car accident at just 26, and during the service, as his coffin sat at the front of St. John the Evangelist Church in Bergenfield, the priest referenced the book of Wisdom, saying, "How can this be? It just is." Those words have stuck with me, as the loss of someone so young felt impossible to comprehend. I can still hear his voice... How can this be?... It just is... It shoots through me in such a hauntingly beautiful way.

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I recently put this quote on a mug and an acrylic print because it still resonates deeply with me. In the midst of such darkness, Steve's life and the impact he had in his short years serve as a reminder that accomplishment isn’t defined by age, and achievement isn’t measured by the number of years lived. That day, as hard as it was, left me with a sense of perspective I carry with me still.

Even when you do everything right, conflict and pain are sometimes unavoidable. What matters most is how we move forward. This year has taught me that healing, whether from job loss or personal disagreements, starts with acknowledgment and a commitment to growth.

The Power of Presence

I have the clarity to realize that I don’t have to go out of my way to help those who never show up for me. Instead, I want to focus my energy on the people who truly matter—the ones who pop in for a no-frills night, invite us over for a fun holiday celebration, or are always willing to lend a hand when we need it. Those friends know who they are, and I’m endlessly grateful for their presence in my life.

To be clear, this blog is not meant to be negative. It’s simply about sharing the reality of how job loss and the actions (or inactions) of others can weigh heavily on a family. It can impact you emotionally, mentally, and even socially. But through it all, we’ve come to appreciate what truly matters. We are happy, healthy, and have each other—and that’s all I can ask for.

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Looking ahead, I have big things coming this year—things you’d never expect. I can’t wait to share them with you as they unfold.

I’m ready to close the door on this year. It’s been filled with more loss and heartache than I ever thought I could endure. But I’m choosing to carry forward the lessons it’s taught me: to prioritize empathy, clear communication, and love over conflict.

The holidays—and life—are too short to waste on arguments or holding onto pain. Let’s create moments of connection, understanding, and peace that remind us why we gather in the first place. This is the power of presence.

To my friends that have been there through all of this, whether it's sending a job posting or just listening to me talk about what's been going on, you know who you are: Jeiris & Jenny, Scott & Jess, Rob & Cristen, Yan, Michael, Amy, Rob, Catherine, Kelly, Lindsay, Karen, Derek, Cheryl & Kurt, Lauren & Leo, Nicole, and many more: THANK YOU!

And to the family members that have truly tried to help, offered support, or just a shoulder to lean on: you know who you are. THANK YOU!

Here’s to better days ahead. Happy New Year.