The Day I Lost Everything (And Found Myself)

Have you ever watched your life crumble before your eyes — job gone, relationships strained, confidence shattered — and thought, "How did I get here?" That was me, not too long ago. I thought I had it all figured out. A stable job, a relationship that looked perfect on Instagram, and weekends filled with brunches and smiles. But beneath the surface, I was on autopilot. I didn’t know who I was without the titles, the routines, and the social validation.

Then came the day I lost everything. And oddly enough, it was the beginning of the best chapter of my life.

The Fall

It started on a random Tuesday morning. I walked into my job expecting another mundane day of emails and meetings. Instead, I was called into a conference room and told I was being let go — company downsizing. My position was "no longer essential." I remember blinking at the HR manager, not quite processing the words. My chest tightened, and my mind raced: What am I going to do now?

I walked out of the building with a box of my things and a severance packet. The city noise was deafening. I sat on a park bench for hours, staring at the paper coffee cup in my hand, as if it held some sort of answer.

That evening, I went home to my partner — someone I had been dating for nearly three years. I expected comfort, maybe even a little encouragement. Instead, I got distance. A week later, they left. They said I had "changed" — that I wasn’t the same person they fell in love with. Maybe they were right. Maybe I had wrapped so much of my identity in being successful that once that was gone, I wasn’t much fun to be around.

Rock Bottom Isn’t Always Loud

The weeks that followed were quiet. Painfully quiet. Friends stopped checking in. I stopped answering calls. Days blurred into nights, and I often found myself scrolling through job listings at 2 a.m., my mind riddled with anxiety. My savings were dwindling. I felt ashamed — like I had failed not just professionally, but as a human being.

One evening, I stood in front of the mirror, unshaven and hollow-eyed. I whispered, “Who even are you?”

And that’s when it hit me: I didn’t know.

I had built a life based on what looked good. A job that paid well, not one I was passionate about. A relationship that fit well into social media photos but lacked depth. I had lived for the highlight reel, not the real.

The Turnaround

One morning, after weeks of self-loathing, I put on my sneakers and went for a walk. Not a jog. Just a walk. No music, no phone. Just me and the sound of my footsteps. I walked for hours. Something about moving physically helped me feel like I was moving emotionally, too.

I started doing this daily. I began journaling. I wrote down everything — my fears, my guilt, my regrets, my small victories. Eventually, I began volunteering at a local shelter. It was humbling, and oddly healing, to focus on someone else’s needs. I saw pain in others that mirrored mine, and I saw strength that inspired me.

I realized I had a voice. Not just one that could write marketing emails or pitch strategies in a boardroom, but one that could tell a story. I started a blog. At first, no one read it. But writing became my therapy. Week by week, readers started to trickle in. People who said they saw themselves in my words. People who said, "Thank you for saying what I couldn’t."

Rebuilding With Purpose

Eventually, a small startup reached out. They liked my writing style and asked if I would help them tell their story. It wasn’t a glamorous offer, but it felt right. And that was new. It wasn’t about the paycheck — it was about the fit.

From there, things started aligning. I wasn’t chasing titles anymore; I was pursuing meaning. I went back to therapy. I reconnected with old friends — the ones who knew me before the LinkedIn titles and curated selfies. I even apologized to a few people I had pushed away in my quest for surface-level success.

What I Learned

Losing everything strips you of illusions. It reveals what’s real and what never really mattered. I learned that:

Your job is not your worth.

Your relationship status doesn’t define your value.

It’s okay to start over — in fact, it might be necessary.

The world doesn't end when your plans fall apart. Sometimes, it just begins.

We all wear masks. Mine was the "successful professional with the perfect life." Losing everything was like standing naked in a storm. But you know what? I survived. And when the rain stopped, I saw the world — and myself — more clearly.

Moral of the Story

Sometimes, life breaks you down to build you back up stronger and more authentically. When you lose everything, you gain the rare opportunity to ask, “Who do I want to be now?”

If you're going through your own version of rock bottom, please remember: you are not alone. And this is not the end.

It might just be your beginning.

_________________________

Thank you for reading...

Regard: Fazal Hadi