Andy Evans shares the deeply personal story of being made redundant and the emotional and professional aftermath. Drawing on lived experience and learning theory, he explores how leaders can handle redundancy with humanity, and reflects on how moments of loss can spark growth, resilience, and a renewed sense of purpose.

It was 8:45 on a September morning when the meeting invite appeared in my inbox. No context, no agenda, just a 3:00pm slot with my CPO and HR. I didn’t need to ask what it was about. I remember calling my wife and saying quietly, “This is it.” After several waves of redundancies over the past two years, I knew my time had come.

When the change came for me, I wasn’t prepared

In that moment, everything slows down. The business words “restructure”, “headcount reduction”, and “strategic alignment” all start to echo, detached from the human reality behind them. The language might be professional, but the experience is deeply personal. I’d spent years as an L&D professional helping others navigate change, yet when the change came for me, I wasn’t prepared for how I would feel.

The emotional impact of redundancy

Sadness, anger, confusion, self-doubt, they all arrived at once. I questioned everything. Why me? What did I do wrong? Was I not good enough? My confidence was shaken in ways I hadn’t anticipated. And yet, I found myself saying to others, “It’s fine, it’s just business.” But it isn’t just business. It’s identity, belonging, and purpose all tied up in one conversation.

William Bridges’ Transition Model helped me make sense of what was happening. He reminds us that change is external, it happens to us, while transition is internal. Redundancy is more than a job loss; it’s the loss of familiarity, of status, and sometimes of self. You move through endings, an uncomfortable neutral zone, and eventually into new beginnings. Knowing that helped me understand that my grief and confusion were not signs of weakness, but part of the human process of letting go.

The Kubler-Ross Change Curve echoed this too: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. It’s a model we often apply to others during organisational change, but living through it personally brings an entirely different level of empathy. I began to understand just how crucial compassionate leadership and communication really are during times of upheaval.

Rebuilding confidence and identity

After the initial shock, I faced a choice: to become bitter or to rebuild. I had recently returned from a mental health break, and part of me wanted to interpret this as a punishment or a sign that I had failed. But I also knew I had the power to decide what came next.

I focused on what I could control: my family, my wellbeing, my next steps. This internal shift reminded me of the importance of locus of control: the belief that we can choose our response to what happens around us. It’s a cornerstone of resilience. I drew inspiration from Mel Robbins’ Let Them Theory – “Let them make me redundant; I’ll let myself succeed elsewhere.”

Nancy Schlossberg’s Transition Theory also resonated deeply. She highlights four key factors that influence how we adapt to change: situation, self, support, and strategies. Reflecting through that lens helped me reframe redundancy from a personal failure to a situational event, one that required me to activate my support network and re-evaluate my professional identity.

I started looking at my career objectively. What did I truly want next? What did I want to learn, contribute, and stand for? I began to refresh myself as a professional, reconnecting with my purpose in helping people learn, grow, and adapt.

What organisations get wrong

Redundancy is a word no one likes to hear, but its impact depends largely on how it is delivered. For me, the process felt cold and transactional. There was no advance warning, no opportunity to process, no thank-you or goodbye. I didn’t even receive a good-luck message when I left. My farewell came from a LinkedIn post… which I wrote.

It’s not the redundancy itself that leaves the lasting mark; it’s the way it’s handled. Research on psychological contracts tells us that the relationship between employer and employee is built on more than salary and job title. It’s built on unwritten expectations of trust, respect, and mutual commitment. When those are broken abruptly, the emotional fallout can be profound.

Amy Edmondson’s work on psychological safety underscores this point. When people feel safe, they engage, learn, and take risks. When they feel disposable, they retreat, disengage, and distrust. In my experience, a lack of transparency and empathy during redundancy doesn’t just affect those leaving, it damages the culture for those who remain.

Leaders have a duty of care that extends beyond process compliance. Compassionate leadership is not a luxury; it’s a necessity. The CIPD’s 2024 Workplace Wellbeing Report calls for organisations to humanise change, to recognise that redundancy is a shared human experience that requires sensitivity and dignity. Simple gestures like providing clarity, emotional support, and an authentic goodbye can make an enormous difference.

As a leader myself, I now carry that learning with me. If I’m ever in a position where I need to deliver such news, I’ll do it with transparency, honesty, and care. Because how we end relationships says as much about our leadership as how we begin them.

Learning and growth through adversity

In hindsight, redundancy was both painful and transformative. It forced me to pause, to reflect, and to rebuild. Psychologists Richard Tedeschi and Lawrence Calhoun describe this as post-traumatic growth. This isthe idea that adversity, while distressing, can lead to new appreciation, resilience, and purpose.

For me, that growth showed up in self-awareness and renewed focus. I’ve become more attuned to how others experience change, more vocal about the importance of compassion in leadership, and more determined to design learning experiences that help people find meaning in uncertainty.

Jack Mezirow’s Transformative Learning Theory argues that true learning often begins with a disorienting dilemma, something that shakes our assumptions and compels us to re-examine who we are. Redundancy was exactly that. It challenged my professional identity, but it also expanded my capacity for empathy, courage, and authenticity.

What leaders can learn from redundancy

For L&D, HR, and senior leaders, redundancy should be treated not only as a process to manage, but as a moment to lead with humanity. We can help shape these experiences into learning opportunities, for individuals, teams, and organisations.

Some reflections for leaders navigating redundancy in their own workplaces:

  • Communicate early and honestly: Ambiguity fuels anxiety, clarity builds trust

  • Equip managers with emotional intelligence: They need the skills to handle difficult conversations with empathy and respect

  • Acknowledge the human cost: Even when business decisions are necessary, the people affected deserve dignity, recognition, and closure

  • Support recovery and growth: Offer coaching, career support, or reflective space to help individuals find their next path

When one door closes

When I look back now, I see that redundancy didn’t define me, it refined me. It reminded me that identity isn’t tied to an employer; it’s tied to purpose and values.

Redundancy can feel like an ending, but it can also be a beginning. For me, it became an opportunity to reassess what mattered, to rediscover my strengths, and to recommit to helping others navigate change with compassion and courage.

As leaders, we have the power to make redundancy either a moment of loss or a moment of growth, both for others and ourselves. When we treat it as a learning experience, when we approach it with empathy and respect, we don’t just close a door. We open a new one, to renewal, resilience, and the kind of leadership our people truly deserve.


Andy Evans is Senior Learning Partner at AllPoints Fibre