Forged by Fire

by Taqiyya Haden 

I thought the fire came to burn me down, I am using it for powerful transformation.

The Layoff 

For several months, the air felt heavy, people around me getting laid off in higher numbers than I had seen over my 8 years with the company. At one point I told my confidante, “Either I will be given more responsibilities without more pay, or I will be displaced.” 

I prepared in small ways for more than a year when the energy and time allowed. I updated my resume and at least consistently posted on LinkedIn. I didn’t actively look for another job, but I was attending to my love of writing and browsing what was out there.

I had PTO on Monday but signed in that night according to my usual habits. I wanted to get control of emails and prepare myself for the week ahead. I saw a meeting scheduled for 8:30 AM the next day, it was likely my turn.

When I logged on at 7:30 AM on Tuesday morning I attended to my normal work, answered emails, IM’s, checked on the team and the calendar. Knowing that these may be the last tasks I still did them well, because that is who I am.  

At 8:29 AM the meeting started, and I recognized the name of an employee relations associate in the meeting, I was about to be laid off.  

My initial feeling was relief, all the emails and tasks I had were going to become someone else’s concern. There was no more impending doom of what if one day it could be me, it was me.  

I entered a tunnel, far from them. 

Entering the Fire 

I could barely hear the script. “Due to the market, blah blah blah, nothing to do with your performance, blah blah blah.”  

I was in a fire filled tunnel, but I kept smiling at them, I even attempted joking. When asked outright I said something about not being surprised and the writing on the wall. 

I advanced through the fire enough to ask who would tell my team of direct reports. I spoke clearly and firmly: “Please tell them I am good, and I want them to be good.” I meant that. 

The relief faded quickly. I am a single parent. I require a steady income. As a Black woman, I had taken every opportunity to do more since starting at minimum wage despite my education. Over the years I doubled my salary through hard work, persistence, and faith. What I call manifestation mixed with Black girl magic and glitter (my sweat). 

My accomplishments reminded me I was worth it, and they gave my daughter more access to the life she deserved. I thrive with structure, people, and purpose. Work had been part of what kept me grounded and sober for years. 

To continue walking through this fire unburned, I knew I needed at least a week of focused self-care. I leaned on faith in God, Universe, and my ancestors. Y’all got me right? 

First Steps Through the Flames 

At first, I was steady. 

I walked beaches, sat in parks, read, watched movies, wrote, and spoke gently to myself. I updated my resume lightly, but I prioritized family and self-care. 

I can walk through fire, I reminded myself. 

As job postings dwindled and applicant numbers rose into the hundreds, the flames drew closer. Rejections, endless edits, unqualified listings, the anxiety grew. My body revealed the toll: eczema flared, sleep slipped away, thoughts clouded. 

The Pull Toward Numbing 

I thought of drinking. I thought of disappearing. 

I remembered losing my birth mother and then my nana who raised me within a month of each other. I did not drink. Why now? Why this? Why the urge to numb? 

The thoughts persisted: No one would have to know. You could day drink while your child is at school. A short bender. Just a few days. 

I returned to my foundations: nature, exercise, meetings, nutrition, meditation, journaling. I asked myself daily: What do I need?

I spoke my prayers aloud. Help me please. 

After a few days of intense struggle I dreamt of drinking, and this helped me FEEL why I did not want to drink. I needed more support. I did the opposite of isolating and leaned into my supportive inner circle. 

Choosing Sobriety, Again 

I am walking through fire. 

I kept asking: Why the pain? What do I need? 

I spoke to myself, gently, firmly, deliberately, constantly: I don’t drink. I do hard things sober. 

Counselors emphasized the basic self-care, nutrition, exercise, and sleep. Non negotiables. I doubled down: nourishing food, sleep support, yoga, sunshine, music, baths, and mantras. 

Grace. I gave myself grace. 

I built a new schedule that included time for me, time for family, with limits on job searching. 

I began reimagining this situation as an opportunity to do something different. To create change. I was not starting from nothing I was starting new with more experience and more self-awareness. 

As I was beginning to regain my strength, my teenager and I experienced our first car accident. The fire roared and I fell into another tunnel. This hurts. 

I can’t write more about it, but I need you to know the kind of fire I am walking through. 

To Anyone Walking Through Fire 

If you feel like you’re walking through fire right now, you are not alone. I am writing this to you and to myself. 

You are enough. You are smart enough and resilient enough to figure this out. Lean into your intuition, higher self, and strength.  

Lean heavily into mental health and substance abuse counselors; this is their life’s work. 

Lean into community; your inner circle that only wants the best possible outcome. Tell your friend or family member when the call is to vent and not solve problems. 

Feel freedom, for the moment you are jobless, you are in transition and not tied to any company or role. That is uncomfortable, but it is freedom.  

Move towards more of what you want. Ask: How do I want to spend my time? What kind of environment do I want to land in?  

Limit your intake of job reports, economic forecasts, and other people’s frustrations. 

You are a powerful manifestor. Take control of this fire and use it to forge forward.

You can stay sober. You will walk through this fire and not be burned. 

You have everything inside of you to turn this moment into an opportunity instead of defeat. 

I thought this fire came to destroy, but this fire will forge.