Still Technically Me: Uninstalled & Upgraded

“If I wasn’t an employee, who was I?”

On the Thursday before Thanksgiving at 8 AM, a single calendar notification ended a career that had spanned 18 years. Within minutes, the Slack channels went dark, the access was revoked, and the identity I had spent nearly two decades building as a "tech leader" vanished into a black monitor.

In this return episode of Still Technically Here, we’re pivoting. We’re moving away from technical systems and leadership-centered problem solving and diving deep into the human side of things. I’m sharing the raw, unpolished story of my own transition—from the "Work-Role Enmeshment" that made a layoff feel like a psychological trauma, to the uncomfortable "liminal space" where growth actually happens.

This isn’t just a story about losing a job; it’s a manual for anyone currently "debugging" their life while the code is still running. Whether you’re a teacher, a nurse, an engineer, or an entrepreneur, if you’ve ever felt that the ground was moving under your feet, this episode is your compass.

In this episode, we explore:

• The Enmeshment Trap: Why we fuse our self-worth with our professional output and how to perform an "Identity Audit" to decouple the two.
• Navigating the Liminal Space: Understanding the "mid-air" suspension between who you were and who you are becoming—and why discomfort is a prerequisite for transformation.
• The Power of the Radical "Yes": How saying yes to the small, scary, and "un-strategic" things—like an empty seat next to a stranger—creates the data points you need to build your next chapter.
• Growth vs. Fixed Mindsets: Applying Dr. Carol Dweck’s research to move from "I am my job" to "I am my skills."

The Transition Toolbox: I’m leaving you with three tangible systems you can run right now:

1. The Verb Audit: Identifying your portable power.
2. The Weak-Tie Outreach: Expanding your surface area for luck.
3. The Micro-Yes Protocol: Building your bravery muscle one small interaction at a time.

The access was revoked and the chair was gone, but the architect remains. Turns out, I’m Still Technically Me. And that’s the only person I need to be.

Connect with the show:

• www.stilltechnicallyhere.buzzsprout.com
• IG & TikTok: @stilltechnicallyhere

Research Referenced:

• Identity Fusion & Enmeshment – Dr. Janna Koretz (HBR)
• The Rites of Passage & Liminality – Arnold van Gennep & Victor Turner
• Mindset – Dr. Carol Dweck
• The Strength of Weak Ties – Mark Granovetter
• Daring Greatly – Dr. Brené Brown

Transcript

It was the Thursday before Thanksgiving. 7:15 AM.

I’d logged on early, just trying to clear some admin work before a back-to-back day of meetings. Typical Thursday.

Then, a notification popped up. A new calendar invite. 15 minutes with my Director and an HR rep. Scheduled for 45 minutes from then.

My first instinct wasn’t "Layoff." It was "What did I do?" I spent the next several minutes thinking… what did I do wrong?  Did I offend someone?  Did I make a really bad choice?  Surely this was the reason for the meeting.  

I texted a work friend to see if they knew what was up, did they have a meeting too?  No response.  I started looking at calendars and realized that there were a number of these meetings spread across people.  And that’s when it hit me…. I texted another work friend.  Nothing.  

I texted my husband, and my girlfriend group “ummm so I’m about to get laid off… “  Responses from them were aimed at reassuring me - I didn’t know that for certain, it could be anything, that’s probably not it.  But deep down… I knew.  And 10 minutes before the meeting, when I got an email that I had been “removed from the organization”, my fate was sealed.  5 minutes from the time the meeting started, I was completely cut off - no ability to connect with my team and say good bye, no ability to talk to any coworkers that I had spent the last 6 years building relationships with.  That was it.  I was no longer employed.  And if I wasn’t an employee, who was I?? 

That was the morning I lost my job, after 18 years in Tech. And it has taught me so much about myself that I never would have learned if that morning didn’t end the way it did.

If you’re new here, Welcome!  The previous 4 episodes covered topics that were relevant to my experience in transitioning from developer to manager, and mainly grounded in code, and technical systems, because that’s my background.  And while I cannot promise that I won’t continue to draw on my experiences to nail home some concepts, things are changing a bit around here, and I hope you’re as excited as I am.  For a long time, we’ve gathered here under the banner of being Still Technically Here. And while my own career is shifting in ways I didn't necessarily see coming, I’ve realized something important: This show was never really about a job title.

"Still Technically Here" is a state of mind. It’s for the teacher looking for a new path, the nurse building better systems, or the engineer stepping into leadership for the first time. It’s for anyone currently in the middle of a transition, trying to debug their life while the code is still running.

The landscape changes, the roles evolve, and sometimes the ground moves under your feet. But the tools for navigating that—the systems we build and the way we lead—those are universal.

I’m still here, still learning, and still navigating the same pivots you are. This show is about that process. It's about the advice, the guidance, and the support we need when we're between where we were and where we're going.

So, wherever you are in your transition, welcome. We're all still here.

Segment 1: The "Enmeshment" Trap & The Identity Audit

Spending the last 18 years in tech, I fell into what psychologists call "Work-Role Enmeshment." Dr. Janna Koretz, a psychologist who specializes in high-pressure careers, wrote in the Harvard Business Review about the dangers of "Identity Fusion." This is when our self-worth is entirely tied to our professional output.  The result?  A layoff isn't just a loss of income; it’s a psychological trauma. Our "ego" becomes a subsidiary of the company.

For the first three weeks after that Thursday, I was a ghost in my own house. I would wake up at 6am, get the kids off to school, and then be at a complete loss.  There were no deliverables to work on, no slack to check, no one who needed me to get something done.  I felt "un-essential."

I needed to be needed.  I needed something to keep me busy.  So, I started applying for roles that were identical to my old one. I’d see a job description for a Data Engineering Manager and think, I can do that in my sleep. But then I’d pause. My heart wouldn’t race with excitement; it would sink with dread. I was trying to buy a ticket back to a city I’d already outgrown just because I knew the map. I was looking for "essential-ness" in the eyes of a recruiter, rather than looking for it in myself.

I wasn't looking for a job; I was looking for a replacement for my identity. And your identity is NOT in a job description.

I had to stop asking, "What does the market want from me?" and start asking, "What do I possess that the market cannot replicate?"

Lucky for me, I had a coach I had been working with that my employer enabled me to keep seeing, even after my termination, for a bit.  She was instrumental in helping me get to work on my sense of self.  Who I am, what I bring to the table, skills I embody and can take with me anywhere.

I realized my "essential-ness" wasn't that I knew a specific software or reported to a specific VP. It was my ability to walk into a room of chaotic data and find the narrative. That is portable. I can do that for a Fortune 50, a non-profit, or for myself.

And this is where things started getting interesting… for 18 years, since the day I graduated college, I had worked for companies.  Every work day was spent doing what was expected of me, working on the current project, marching toward that deliverable.  All of a sudden, I was finding myself really thinking about services I could offer, what work I enjoyed doing most, what really lit my fire.  And was I really thinking about trying to do this on my OWN?!

Segment 2: Growth Outside the Comfort Zone (The "Liminal Space")

There is a concept in sociology called "Liminality," popularized by Arnold van Gennep. It is the "middle" stage of a ritual—the space between "who you were" and "who you are becoming." It’s supposed to be uncomfortable.  Think of it like a trapeze artist who has let go of one bar but hasn't yet caught the next. You are suspended in mid-air. It’s supposed to be uncomfortable. In fact, Turner argued that this "in-between" state is where the most profound transformations happen because you are stripped of your previous status and rank. You’re not a "Senior Director" anymore, but you’re not quite a "Founder" either. You’re just... you.

I was deep in this mid-air suspension when someone sent me a link to a local Women’s Networking event that was coming up.  This was it, my chance to get out there and see what it’s like.  I reached out to a couple of my girlfriends, they were in!  Now, if you know me, you know I am a preparer. I don’t "wing it." I believe in systems, backups, and redundancy.  So I bought my ticket and started getting to work on my new identity.  

Then came the shift… Turns out, my friends weren’t going to be able to go to the event afterall.  Cue the intrusive thoughts.  They didn’t just whisper; they screamed: Who do you think you are?  You don’t have a single client. You don’t even know if this “thing” is REAL.  You’re going to be the only person there who "used to be" something. You won’t even know anyone there.  I was terrified - These types of events are not my cup of tea.  

But, I forced myself to go. I sat in my car in the parking lot for ten minutes, practicing a new pitch. I was trying to build a fortress of words to hide behind.  Making sure I had all the answers to any question I could possibly be asked.  And all of it went out the window as soon as I walked through the doors.  The event wasn’t a typical “mingle” of networking, not even close.  There was absolutely no pressure (thank goodness), but the plan was for individuals to come to the front of the room and spend a few minutes talking about who they are, what they do, and how they got there.  I realized in that moment I only knew the answer to maybe 50% of those questions. The "Who are you?" part was a blank page.  I knew who I used to be…

I won’t bore you with every detail of those three hours, but I’ll tell you this: watching woman after woman stand up and admit their own "Liminality"—their own messy, mid-air transitions—changed everything.

When it was my turn, I didn't use the pitch I practiced in the car. I couldn't.  Because I didn’t remember it.  Instead, I spoke from my heart, from my feelings.  I have worked in tech for 18 years, I said.  And now I’m laid off.  And I admitted, in front of all of these strangers, that I didn’t actually know what was next.  But I was going to try… I was going to try doing what was speaking to me, what was pulling me, and I was going to try to make it on my own

I met incredible women.  Strong women.  Successful and happy women.  And I had one conversation that changed everything and brought me to where I am today, just 3 short weeks later.  I thought I knew who I was and what I offered when I walked in there (even though I hadn’t gotten any traction yet), but it all changed that night.  Right now, I know that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.  I still don't have a 10-year plan, or even a 3 year plan. The intrusive thoughts still show up for breakfast some mornings. But the fire is back. I’m excited about work again because, for the first time in 18 years, the work I’m doing is for me.

This is exactly what Dr. Carol Dweck highlights in her seminal work on Mindset. She found that people with a "fixed" mindset see their qualities as carved in stone—"I am a Tech Lead, and that is all I am." But those with a Growth Mindset see their current state as just a starting point.

As Dweck writes, "Why waste time proving over and over how great you are, when you could be getting better?" Transitioning from a fixed identity (I am my job) to a growth identity (I am a collection of evolving skills) is the only way to survive the liminal space without losing your mind.

Segment 3: Strategic Vulnerability & The Power of "Yes"

In the tech world, we are conditioned to be the "Answer People." We are the ones who fix the tickets, ship the code, and solve the outages. We’re taught that the most valuable person in the room is the one who is self-sufficient. But when you are in a transition, that self-sufficiency becomes a bottleneck.

We often view accepting help or saying "yes" to an unknown opportunity as a sign of a "broken system." We think, “If I were actually good at this, I wouldn't need a warm intro,” or “I shouldn't take that meeting because I don’t have my pitch perfected yet.” But in a pivot, saying "Yes" is your most valuable asset. It’s how you connect your isolated self to a much larger network.

There is a landmark sociological study by Mark Granovetter called "The Strength of Weak Ties."

Granovetter found that when it comes to finding new opportunities or making major life shifts, our "Strong Ties" (our close friends and immediate family) are actually less helpful than our "Weak Ties" (the acquaintances, the former colleagues, the person you met once at a conference). Why? Because your close circle moves in the same information bubbles you do. Your "Weak Ties" are the bridges to entirely new worlds. But to access those bridges, you have to start saying "Yes" to things that feel unfinished or "out of profile."

After that first networking event, I made a silent pact with myself. I was going to stop over-calculating the ROI of every interaction and just start saying Yes.  If we’re being honest, it even started at the network event when someone approached me and said “I feel called to sit here, do you mind if I take this seat beside you”.  SURE!

After that, it started small. Someone asked, "Can I take your card and give it to my friend?" In the past, the perfectionist in me would have thought, Wait, my card isn't perfect, my website isn't ready. This time? Yes.

Then came an invite to be a guest at a paid networking meet up. Initially, I said no… I didn’t want to intrude (hello intrusive thoughts…).  I was assured that I was welcomed there, I was wanted to be there.  And so, I said YES.

Then asking if I’ll be attending a local charity event.  On a Thursday night?  No thanks… I excused myself saying that I needed to pick my daughter up from gymnastics.  Didn’t even ask if my husband could.  He says “why?  I can get her.  You should go”.  The mom in me is working on not feeling guilty, but I said yes.  I’ll be there.  And it’s not a “work event”, but there will be people, people I am sure I haven’t met before.  And I’m sure I’ll strike up at least one conversation.  And who knows where that conversation might lead.  Maybe n where, maybe to a new client, maybe to 10 new clients.

The reality is, none of these “Yes’es” were “job offers” or providing my family with income.  Not in and of themselves.  But they were something better. They were validations. Every time I said yes to a "quick chat" or a "can I offer you some advice?", I was receiving data points that told me I still had value outside of a corporate hierarchy.

This is what Dr. Brené Brown means in Daring Greatly when she talks about vulnerability being the birthplace of innovation.

Vulnerability isn't just "crying in public." It’s the willingness to show up when you can’t control the outcome. By saying "Yes" to that empty seat or that unsolicited advice, I was admitting I didn't have the next map yet. And that admission is exactly what allowed other people to offer me their compass.

I was clinging to my old resume like a life raft, trying to prove I was a good "employee." But through these "Yeses," I realized I didn't need a raft. I was already learning how to swim on my own.

When you say "No" because you aren't "ready," you aren't protecting yourself—you're just staying small. Every "Yes" is a new data point. And in this stage of the game, data is more valuable than perfection.

IV. The Transition Toolbox

If you’ve been listening, you know that we don’t leave an episode without actual tools.  Tangible things you can go out and try for yourself.  Systems you can put in place to work better, or to get you to your next landing place.  So today, I want to give you three actual tools—systems you can run right now—if you find yourself in that uncomfortable mid-air space between trapeze bars."

1. Tool 1: The Verb Audit In tech, we are obsessed with nouns: Manager, Developer, Architect. But nouns are titles granted by companies; Verbs are powers owned by you. Take a piece of paper and list what you actually do when the title is gone. Do you translate chaos into order? Do you de-escalate high-stakes tension? Do you narrate data? These verbs are your portable assets. They are what make you 'essential' in any room, regardless of the logo on your badge.

1. Tool 2: The 'Weak Tie' Outreach As we discussed with Mark Granovetter’s research, your next big breakthrough probably won't come from your inner circle—they already know what you can do. It’ll come from a 'Weak Tie.' This week, I challenge you to reach out to one person you haven’t spoken to in two years. Don't ask for a job. Just say: 'I’m navigating a pivot and I’ve always valued your perspective. I’d love to hear what’s exciting you in your world right now.' Open a port and see what data comes in.

1. Tool 3: The 'Micro-Yes' Protocol If you are a 'preparer' like me, your default setting is 'No' until everything is perfect. We’re going to override that. This week, you have to say Yes to one low-stakes invite that makes you slightly nervous. Say yes to the seat next to a stranger. Say yes to the 10-minute 'coffee' chat. Don't worry about the ROI. You aren't looking for a paycheck; you are looking for a data point. Each 'Yes' is a brick in the foundation of who you are becoming.

V. The Turning Point & Conclusion

These tools are more than just exercises; they are the blueprints for your new structure. Because when you stop waiting for a recruiter to validate your 'verbs' or a company to give you a 'noun,' the focus shifts from the job you lost to the person who remains.

That Thursday morning, when my access was cut off, I thought I had been deleted. I didn’t realize I had just been uninstalled from a system that didn’t fit me anymore so I could finally start building my own.

The intrusive thoughts might still show up for breakfast, but now, I’m the one who decides what’s on the menu.

When one window closes, the air in the room changes. It gets colder at first, but then it gets clearer.

The "Turning Point" for me wasn't getting a new offer. It was the moment I realized that my value wasn't something granted to me by a Director and an HR rep. It was something I carried out of the building with me.

If you’re in the middle of your own transition, keep going. You’re not lost; you’re just in the liminal space. And remember—you’re still here. We’re all still technically here.

Thanks for listening. I'll see you in the next one."

The Parting Gift: You are the architect, not the building. Buildings can be torn down, but the architect can always design something new.

Call to Action: I want to hear from you. Have you ever had a "Thursday morning" that changed everything? Tell me your story at [Podcast Link/Email].

Until next time, keep building. We’re still here. We’re Still Technically Here.