Surviving redundancy: tips on how to cope, and why it can be a blessing in disguise

It's an ordinary Tuesday. You're making coffee, answering emails, maybe thinking about lunch. Then a message appears: a meeting request from HR, a phone call you weren't expecting, or a chat with your manager that begins with the words "I'm afraid I have some difficult news." And just like that, the floor drops out from under you.

The next few minutes pass in a strange blur. You hear words ("restructure", "position at risk", "we value everything you've contributed"), but they seem to arrive from somewhere far away. You nod. You might even, bizarrely, say thank you. And then it's over, and you're back at your desk, and the full weight of it starts to land.

What about the mortgage? The rent? What do you tell people? What do you tell yourself? The panic comes in waves: hot, disorienting, deeply personal. Even if you'd sensed it coming, even if some part of you had seen the signs, it still feels like a betrayal. Like failure. Like something you must have done wrong.

You haven't. And you're far from alone.

Our editor Katy Cowan knows the feeling intimately. Having been made redundant herself—an experience that led her to freelancing, and ultimately founding Creative Boom—she recently invited our community to share their own stories on LinkedIn and The Studio. What emerged, collectively, was something close to a redundancy survival guide.

The moment everything shifts

For PR specialist Linda Harrison, the call came on an ordinary working morning. She was at home when the business owner rang and introduced her to his lawyer. The company was closing. Everyone was losing their jobs that day. It was just before her 50th birthday, and three weeks before Christmas.

"I went through all the emotions that Christmas: denial, anger, sadness," she recalls. "It felt hopeless. Despite having worked there for seven years, we had to register for the government scheme and wait for our redundancy money. That was scary: no money coming in at all."

The payment arrived four months later. Linda was out for lunch with her husband, celebrating her 50th, when the email arrived. By then, she'd already begun picking up freelance work, almost by accident. Today, three years on, she runs a thriving PR business in Yorkshire. "I believe that phone call was the best thing that could ever have happened to my career," she says now.

The quiet cost nobody talks about

What's often missing from conversations about redundancy is honest acknowledgement of just how destabilising it is; not just financially, but socially and emotionally too.

Take digital marketing leader Charlotte Fish. A single woman in her thirties with a mortgage and no one else to cover the bills, she sat with it for a day before throwing herself into a frantic job search. Four weeks and six interviews later, she chose between two final-stage offers... and made a decision that surprised even her.

"I accepted the job with the 'less wholesome' company of the two," she explains. "But it's turned out to be the most wholesome experience of any job I've had. It's a step up in all aspects, and challenges me every day in the best ways. Everything happens for a reason, but sometimes there needs to be a catalyst for change. Redundancy can be one of them."

She also has a message for those who survive a cull. "Silence from colleagues who managed to hold on to their positions is deafening. It can feel like abandonment; like you've done something wrong or deserve redundancy, which is not the case. And to employers: if you really care, share us with your network. Help us succeed. Throw us overboard to save yourselves, that's fine, but at least send us with a life jacket."

The need for resilience

Even if others help you, though, you do need to develop resilience to survive redundancy and get back on your feet. That's something Charlotte Cowling, head of marketing and growth at Fiasco Design, has learned from experience, having been made redundant three times. "Make no mistake, it will rock your self-esteem, and that's shite," she says. But she's also clear about what it teaches you. "These days, I have an unshakeable resilience, which became clear when the third redundancy happened. Other team members who got let go were a mess, but I remember feeling remarkably calm and light. I had faith it would work out because it had before. You will always be okay."

Creative director Vicky Broddle will recognise that dynamic, having been made redundant twice since October 2022. The first time, she'd finally landed what felt like her dream role, hoping to reach creative director level. Nine months later, she was out. She freelanced through 2023, eventually secured a year-long maternity cover creative director role ("I'd finally made it as one of the 17% of female creative directors") and then faced a second redundancy in early 2025.

Her response? A kind of earned defiance. "I truly believe that only good things come from this kind of rejection, as they have before," she maintains. Everything is a lesson and a learning curve. It's tough to take sometimes, but I believe it ultimately takes you to a better place, with better knowledge, skills, creativity and empathy."

Taking the leap

For some, redundancy leads to going freelance. For others, it means building something bigger. Gemma Eccleston, managing director at Hendrix Rose PR, had been at her previous agency for ten years when her role was put at risk. With a young child, the news was frightening. But she chose voluntary redundancy and invested the payout in launching her own agency.

"Taking that risk has actually left me in a stronger financial position than I was in-house," she says, "and the sense of motivation and reward from building something of my own has been incredible."

Her advice to others? "Don't be afraid of stepping outside your comfort zone. It can feel daunting, but sometimes those moments open the door to opportunities you might never have considered."

Practical wisdom, hard won

Vicki Lovegrove, director of Seventy Three Design, was made redundant over 20 years ago, and her advice is bracingly practical. "Sign on for benefits: you are owed it," she urges. "And get yourself a business nemesis. I was so angry at my boss that I used him as my imaginary business nemesis. It helped channel that anger.

"Don't spend all your freelance money at once," she continues. "Keep a backup pot for tax and quiet months. Let go of the shame: your situation was not your choice, and it is nothing to be ashamed of. Tell people what's happened; otherwise, how do they know how to get in touch? And cry, if you need to."

What comes next

Not everyone can look back at redundancy with clarity yet. Some are still sending applications into the void, still waiting, still wondering. That's real, and it deserves to be said plainly.

But if the stories gathered here show anything, it's that the creative community has a remarkable capacity to reshape itself in the face of adversity. And that the things we build in the aftermath of loss are often the things we're most proud of.

Sometimes a full stop turns out to be a comma, drawn in the wrong place, pointing somewhere better.