'Spring Is Here'

Written in my not-working-from-home sweatpants

People recently deemed jobless by way of layoffs are commonly and constantly reminded of that old adage — your job is not your identity.

“Spring is here!” is a phrase not typically associated with the practice of job elimination. And yet:

Laura Bassett @LEBassett

HuffPost employees, after a year of working through a pandemic that isn't over, were invited to a meeting today with the password "spring is here," where they were told 47 of them would be laid off. They would only know if they still had a job if they didn't receive an email by 1

Yes, the rumors and my many self-deprecating tweets and Instagram stories are true: I, along with 46 of my colleagues, have been laid off. Working at HuffPost changed my life, made me a better writer, taught me how to quickly craft whip-smart news hits and headlines and introduced me to brilliant, talented and just plain good people. I loved the job — sometimes even when it didn’t love me back. A job is not an identity, no, but after seven years of proudly introducing myself as a HuffPost reporter, there is no doubt a piece of me that feels untethered and un…employed.

I feel sad, scared, anxious, free and hopeful (though that could be because of Biden’s recent announcement about vaccine eligibility, not totally sure.)

I had already been meditating on starting a newsletter, a place to talk about some of the things I was lucky enough to write about during my seven years at HuffPost, before I got laid off. Things like fashion, body image, family & grief, decidedly not about some of the things I was less lucky to write about like Kendall Jenner in crop tops and a few things I wasn’t able to write about during my time there, too.

Here, I’ll tell you stories, talk about things we don’t talk about enough and things we talk about too much. I will be honest and vulnerable and overshare my experiences in hopes that someone will see themselves in some or all of it and feel more empowered to tell their own.

Plus I’ll recommend some cool shit that I like, too.

So, let’s just call last week’s events the not-so-gentle push I needed to get started.

If you are one of the many people who have reached out, called, texted, tweeted, sent gifts, here’s a live look at me, an only child, receiving those things:

Disclaimer: this is not me. It’s Lady Gaga feeding Adam Driver a pastry.

In a move that is also extremely unlike me, I’ve already written a first installment of this very newsletter. It’s about body image and the pandemic and I hope you’ll stick around to read it, tell your friends and share your feedback with me about the things you do and do not want to read about, too.

In the meantime, I’ll be spending some time today talking to my therapist and taking a long walk. Spring is not here — but it’s coming. And I think it’s going to be great.

Love,

Jamie Alyson Feldman or, Jamie AF. (GET IT?)

P.S. If you’re new here & already love me, wait until you meet my nana:

callswithnana

A post shared by Calls with Nana (@callswithnana)