One of the strangest things about getting fired is that everyone suddenly becomes a life coach.
The moment people hear the news, they start talking like they’ve been given access to the final chapter of your life.
“Everything happens for a reason.”
“God has something better planned.”
“You’re going to be better off.”
A few years ago, Sofia, or Sofi as everyone at the job called her, got fired after five years at the same company.
That’s long enough to stop thinking of a job as temporary. It becomes part of your routine. Part of your identity. You know where you’re going on Monday morning, who you’re having lunch with, and what your week is probably going to look like before it even starts.
Sofi wasn’t one of those people secretly hoping to leave.
She actually loved the job.
She was good at it, liked the people she worked with, and expected to be there for a long time. On top of that, she was helping take care of her mother, who had been dealing with health issues, which meant the timing couldn’t have been much worse.
She didn’t see it coming, and when she got home, she couldn’t hold back the tears.
Mom was on speed dial to offer some encouraging words, but it wasn’t working.
“Baby, everything is going to work out,” her mother told her.
Sofi wanted to believe her.
She really did.
The problem was that her mother’s optimism and her bank account weren’t having the same conversation.
The rent was still due. Her mother’s next doctor’s appointment was still on the calendar. The bills that existed before the firing were still there after it. Losing a job doesn’t pause the rest of life. If anything, it has a way of making every responsibility feel heavier.
By the next morning, the advice started arriving from every direction.
One person told her everything happens for a reason. Another insisted that God was redirecting her toward something better. Somebody else started telling her about a friend who got fired years ago and somehow ended up making twice as much money.
It’s funny how everybody suddenly knows exactly what your future looks like the moment your present falls apart.
By the second day, somebody suggested she start her own business.
Not because they knew anything about entrepreneurship. Not because they had built one themselves. Just because it sounded like a good ending.
Nobody seemed interested in where Sofi actually was. They were already talking about where they hoped the story was going.
In their minds, she’d get fired, start a business, become successful, and eventually look back on all of this as some necessary chapter in a larger plan. Maybe they were right. Maybe they weren’t. The truth is that nobody knew.
Over the next few months, Sofi heard every version of the future. The funny thing is that none of those people had any idea what they were talking about.
Neither did Sofi.
At that point, she wasn’t trying to unlock some deeper meaning behind the firing. She was trying to keep moving.
Some days were productive. Some weren’t. Some days she felt optimistic. Other days she’d find herself right back where she’d started, wondering how a normal workday had somehow turned into one of the biggest turning points of her life.
Eventually, she decided to start a business.
Nobody knew where the story was headed when Sofi sat on that couch talking to her mother. Nobody knew whether getting fired was a disaster, a detour, or the beginning of something better. Nobody knew whether starting a business was the right move.
Nobody knew anything.
They were just guessing.
And maybe that’s why everybody was so quick to explain it.
The older I get, the more I think people aren’t trying to predict the future when they say things like “everything happens for a reason.” They’re trying to make themselves comfortable. If Sofi’s firing doesn’t make sense, then maybe the next thing that happens to them won’t make sense either. Most people can handle bad news. What they struggle with is not knowing what the bad news means.
That’s one of the ideas behind Don’t Fold.
Looking back, the firing feels like the easy part of the story. What I remember is everything that came after: the questions, the waiting, and the reality of having to make decisions before she knew whether any of them would work out.
It’s waking up the next morning and realizing the questions are still there. It’s discovering that life keeps moving whether you have answers or not. It’s carrying responsibilities, doubts, and uncertainty while everyone around you seems determined to explain a future they can’t possibly see.
That’s what Sofi was dealing with. Not the firing itself, but the middle that followed. The part where nobody had any answers, nobody knew how the story would end, and she still had to wake up every morning and keep moving.
A few years later, people could point to the business and act like the outcome was obvious. They could connect the dots, tell the story backward, and convince themselves it all made sense. That’s easy to do when you’re standing at the end of a chapter.
It’s a lot harder when you’re living through it.
Pressure has a way of revealing what people believe about themselves.
Some people see a setback and decide the story is over.
Other people keep turning the page.
Most people don’t fail because of pressure.
They fail because they mistake the middle for the ending.
About the Author
Brian B. Turner is an entrepreneur, author, and creator of the DON’T FOLD series. His work explores discipline, resilience, faith, business, relationships, and the decisions people make when life gets volatile.
Brian is the author of Don’t Fold: Mental Discipline for Volatile Seasons.
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