“Your role has been eliminated.”
Six words. That’s all it takes to undo years of hard work, identity, stability, and purpose.
I know because it happened to me. I was the only analyst on the team. No overlap. No duplication. Just me. And yet, my role was eliminated.
It wasn’t just a loss of income. It was a loss of belonging. Of purpose. Of identity.
And the words used to deliver that news? They made it worse.
When We Say “Role Eliminated,” Who Are We Talking To?
On paper, a role eliminated is just a business decision. A clean line item on a spreadsheet. A step toward “efficiency.”
But here’s the problem: you’re not telling a spreadsheet. You’re telling a person.
A human being. One with a mortgage. A family. A dream. A sense of worth tied to doing meaningful work.
Corporate language like:
- Redundancy
- Workforce optimization
- Resource reallocation
...might make leaders feel more comfortable, but it dehumanizes the very people affected.
When I was laid off, my supervisor didn’t even look me in the eye. They sat in front of HR and read the words off a printed page, word for word. Like I wasn’t even there. It wasn’t a conversation. It was a performance. A process.
And that’s the point: it might be easier for leadership to shield themselves behind formal language, but it strips the moment of all humanity for the person on the receiving end.
When did we decide that professional heartbreak should be wrapped in sterile, soulless language?
The Human Cost of a Role Eliminated
Behind every role eliminated is a person:
- Explaining the loss to their family.
- Grappling with imposter syndrome and shame.
- Losing not just income but community, structure, and identity.
“I’ve been struggling with imposter syndrome since being made redundant eight weeks ago.”
That hit hard. Because while my situation wasn’t called redundancy, the emotional weight? It felt the same.
This language—this corporate distancing—makes it easier for companies to move on. But it makes it harder for people to heal.
The Reality of “Role Eliminated”
Let me be clear: I wasn’t part of a team.
I was the only analyst. No duplication. No overlap. No redundancy.
So when I was told my role was eliminated, I didn’t just feel the loss. I questioned the logic.
How do you eliminate a role that was doing essential, singular work?
These decisions are made at a macro level—often with cold efficiency. But their impact is deeply personal, deeply human, and rarely logical to the people affected.
And when you frame it as “eliminated,” you erase the person who showed up every day to do the work.
We aren’t just job titles. We’re not bullet points on a staffing slide. We are people.
People deserve better language and better treatment.
Rewriting the Narrative After a Role Is Eliminated
If this happened to you, you are not alone. And you are not your title.
Let’s reframe the story:
- You are not redundant, you are resilient.
- You are not just a “role, ”you are a human being with deep value.
- You are not a number, you are a story still being written.
It’s time to bring more humanity into these decisions and into the words we choose to describe them.
How to Support Someone Whose Role Was Eliminated
Want to help someone who just went through this? Here’s how:
- Acknowledge it plainly. No euphemisms. Just empathy.
- Offer connection. A warm intro, a coffee chat, a job lead matters.
- Hold space. Don’t rush them to bounce back. Let them process.
- Affirm their worth. Remind them they are not defined by one role.
I’m #OpenToWork — And I’m Not Hiding It
Yes, I’m one of the many navigating this right now. But I’m not hiding it. I’m owning it.
I’m #OpenToWork and open to what’s next. Because the end of a role isn’t the end of your story. It’s the start of something more aligned, more intentional, and more human.
Let’s Talk About It
If your role was eliminated, how did the language impact you?
What do you wish someone had said—or not said?
Drop your story in the comments. Let’s build a space where people feel seen, not sanitized. Like Michelle Obama reminds us, our stories are what we have. They are ours to own, no matter how a system tries to flatten them.
And if you have a job lead, you know where to find me.
