Out of the Office: Heather O’Neill
on Job Loss, Grief and Rethinking It All

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Out of the Office is a project I created to share stories about unemployment—honestly, humanly, and in a way that reminds us we’re not alone. If you’re unemployed right now, this is for you.

 

Too often, unemployment gets reduced to numbers on a chart. But behind every statistic is a person navigating identity shifts, emotional ups and downs, and a job market that can feel broken and exhausting.

 

Everyone has their own story of what unemployment has felt like, and I wanted to explore those experiences so we can feel less alone in it. 

 

Here’s mine:

 

To say that 2025 was a beast of a year would be an understatement. My partner lost his job in January. I lost mine in March. In between, I had a botched hand surgery that left me physically unable to even look for work for weeks.

 

Other things happened too—more cancer diagnoses among people I love, a minor but expensive car accident. 

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Life just kept piling on, which is why the job search wasn’t front and center at first.

 

I started a half-hearted job search in the spring, applying for a job or two a day. But it soon became clear that my best friend, who was fighting her second round of cancer, didn’t have much time left. I wanted to be with her as much as possible—and, honestly, I wasn’t in any shape for interviews anyway. 

 

My friend Nancy died in June. The months that followed blurred into something I can only describe as a strange, suspended state as I helped her husband sort through her belongings. Seeing the life of someone you love reduced to boxes labeled “sell,” “donate,” and “toss” is surreal. It makes you reassess everything.

 

Between the work stress I had experienced prior to my layoff and everything that unfolded after, my nervous system was rattled beyond belief. Even if someone had wanted to interview me at that point, I probably wouldn’t have made the best impression.

 

But necessity eventually called. Since August, I’ve been in full-throttle search mode—applying to two to five jobs a day—and mostly hearing nothing back. No interviews. Not even a recruiter screen. Just the occasional predatory spam email pretending to be an opportunity.

 

I recently joked with my father that at this point in the process I’m getting rejected from jobs I don’t even remember applying for, which feels like being dumped by someone I never even dated, via an AI-generated Dear John letter. 

 

That’s been jarring for me. I’ve worked steadily since graduating college. I used to feel highly employable. When I landed interviews, I often went on to land offers. So this version of reality feels strange and unfamiliar.

 

As someone who has written about the workforce for the last nine years, I know that what is happening now is unusual. I have my own theories about it—AI is an obvious culprit but I believe there are other forces at work, too. I don't know how job seekers can fix this—I feel like this is a failing of corporations that are relying too heavily on automation. It has taken the humanity out of the hiring process and removed the nuances of talent and experience.  Human job seekers are not a pile of neat keywords but a mashup of unique experiences and this seems to be lost in the sauce right now.

 

So lately I’ve been asking myself different questions. What else might I do? What kind of work would actually feel creatively nourishing now? I’m not sure I want to work in tech or even in content the way I used to. 

 

The imagination and curiosity that once drew me to collaborative content creation feels harder to find in the job posts I am seeing now. And—maybe more importantly—I’ve started to wonder what might happen — what I might create — if I do something entirely new.

 

Maybe I’ll return to tech. Maybe I won’t. I wouldn’t place a bet on it either way. For now, I am doing some freelance work and enjoying the variety it brings me. 

 

What I do know is that I’m still curious, still capable of learning and still have the desire to build something meaningful—even if it doesn’t look the way I once imagined.

 

My motto for this year is simple: I survived 2025. In 2026, I thrive.

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If you’re inspired to share your own story, I’d love to hear it. You can send me a DM on LinkedIn or reach out here to arrange a time to talk.

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