When the Woman Who Created the Job Fair Becomes the Job Seeker

Choosing Purpose Over Pain: A Leader's Journey Through Wrongful Termination and Healing

Candace Nicole Thompson

CEO

YeahYouToo.org

An Unmuted editorial by Candace Thompson

So, what happens when the woman who put together a job fair is suddenly unemployed and searching for a job herself after being wrongfully terminated?

That question hits differently when you are the woman.

I have stood in rooms encouraging people not to give up. I have helped women prepare résumés, connect with employers, recognize their strengths, and believe that their past did not disqualify them from having a future. I reminded them that rejection was not the end of their story.

Now, I have to give that same speech to myself.

Being wrongfully terminated left me carrying more than the stress of unemployment.

I was also left with confusion, anger, disappointment, and the painful feeling of being treated as though my work and dedication did not matter. When the reason for losing your job does not reflect the truth of what happened, you are forced to fight two battles: finding your next opportunity and refusing to let someone else's version of the story become your identity.

The truth is, I realized I was looking for more than another job. I was looking for purpose. I was looking for a place where my gifts would be respected, my ideas would be valued, and my humanity would not have to be sacrificed for a paycheck.

And it damn sure means that every coping skill I have ever taught has to come back to memory.

• Pause before reacting.
• Challenge the negative thoughts.
• Do not confuse rejection with worthlessness.
• Do not make a permanent decision from a temporary emotion.
• Ask for help.
• Rest without calling yourself lazy.
• Feel what happened without allowing it to define what happens next.

It is easy to teach resilience when you are standing on the other side of the storm. It is much harder when the rain is falling on your own head.

I built YeahYouToo from my pain and my tears.

I built it from the parts of my story that I once wanted to hide. I turned survival into service because I wanted other people to know they were not alone. But somewhere along the way, I learned a difficult truth: being an unhealed executive can kill a mission statement faster than almost anything else.

• You can write "healing" into your organization's mission while refusing to make time for your own.
• You can teach boundaries while allowing people to cross yours.
• You can encourage others to rest while working yourself into the ground.
• You can tell people that their identity is bigger than their job title-and then feel completely lost when your own title is wrongfully taken away.

Pain may introduce you to your purpose, but pain cannot be allowed to manage it.

An organization cannot remain healthy if its leader is constantly bleeding into the work. Passion cannot replace healing. A mission cannot survive forever on adrenaline, sacrifice, and one woman's determination to hold everything together.

That realization did not make me weaker. It made me more honest.

Maybe this season is not only about finding another job.

Maybe it is about becoming the kind of leader who no longer believes she must destroy herself to prove that she cares. Maybe it is about separating my calling from my employment status and remembering that a wrongful termination cannot terminate my purpose.

I am still the woman who organized the job fair.

I am also the woman who now needs some of the same resources, encouragement, connections, and compassion that she offered everyone else.

There is humility in that.

There is also power in it.

I know what it feels like to help someone through a door, only to later find myself standing outside another one. I know what it feels like to pour hope into a room and then go home needing someone to pour hope back into me.

This experience has not erased my credibility. It has deepened it.

I am not writing this from a stage, pretending that I have everything figured out. I am writing from the uncomfortable space between what ended and what comes next. I am job searching. I am healing. I am questioning. I am rebuilding. Some days I am confident, and other days I have to remind myself that losing a position-even unfairly-does not mean I have lost my position in the world.

Maybe being unmuted means telling the truth before the story has a perfect ending.

So here is my truth: I do not know exactly where I will land next. But I know I will not abandon myself while trying to get there.

• I will use the coping skills I taught.
• I will accept support without shame.
• I will stand firmly in the truth of what happened without allowing bitterness to control what happens next.
• I will protect the mission by taking care of the woman responsible for carrying it.
• And I will remember that YeahYouToo was never built because my life was painless. It was built because I learned how to create purpose from pain.

Now, I have the opportunity to do it again.