đ Hiya, job sneaker!
Kim sat cross-legged on the living room floor, her eyes flicking between her laptop and the chessboard in front of her. The gray hum of her companyâs all-staff meeting played in the background, reporting quarterly financials in that same monotone drone sheâd heard a dozen times before. Cash burn, runway, projectionsâmumbo jumbo.
âSure you want to do that?â her partner asked, leaning in with an inquisitive smirk.
âI think so,â Kim said, removing her hand from her bishop.
Two moves later, her partner slid their queen across the board. âCheckmate.â
Kim blinked. âSeriously? Again?â
The next morning, Kim stared at her boss on the screen. He wore the tired face of someone whoâd been up all night rehearsing their lines.
âWe have to make some tough decisions, and unfortunately⌠your role has been impacted.â
Impacted. What a word. An understatement for the floor opening up and swallowing her whole. She nodded, trying to stay composed, but was already in a free fall.
With only three weeks of severance, she immediately started pinging people from her network. Old coworkers, mentorsâanyone who might help open a side door. Stability, she thought. I just want stability.
Another game of chess. This time, Kim leaned in. Watched her partner more closely. Noticed how they built walls, protected their queen, and stayed patient.
âYou never go for a big move early,â she said.
âNope. I wait. I set up the board. Then I strike.â
A week later, their kitchen was gutted. The contractor theyâd paid upfront vanished. Thousands of dollars goneâtheir savings, her backup plan.
She had to take a short-term, throwaway contract to cover bills. That work gutted her. She told herself it was temporaryâjust a pawn sacrifice in a long match.
Three months passed like a losing endgame. But her network came through. Interviews finally turned into an offer. She cried when the email arrivedârelief, exhaustion, a breath sheâd been holding finally let go.
The new job was promising. Kim felt like herself again, solving problems side by side with other engineers, trading ideas, and pulling each other out of dead ends. But a week in, a teammate left.
Then came her first all-hands. Financials again. This time, she listened.
âWeâre seeing a recalibration in the market⌠reassessing growth trajectoriesâŚâ
Buzzwords. But between them, a story. Kim heard it now.
One more teammate left the next week. This is the setup, she thought. And Iâm not getting caught flat-footed.
She upgraded LinkedIn to Premium. She started messaging hiring managers directly. Bold, strategic moves. She thought like her partner. Like a chess player.
She sent a connection request to the hiring manager at Shopifyâsimple and direct. It felt like a long shot, but what did she have to lose?
To her surprise, they responded almost immediately. Character interview. Technical interview. Reference checks.
Waitâwhere were her references? No one was picking up the phone or responding to emails. Panic stirred. Was this going to slip away right at the end?
The night before the deadline, the checks came through. Her references had finally delivered. She got the job.
Now, a month into the new role, Kim wraps the chessboard in bubble wrap. The sun filters through the window, warming the cardboard boxes lined up like pawns.
Theyâre moving to Chicago. Everything still feels uncertain. But her gut tells her this is the right move. She knows now that stability isnât about staying put. Itâs about staying alert. Being strategic. Willing to move before you donât have a choice.
âHey,â her partner calls out. âYour last company just did a round of layoffs.â
The door prize? Stability isnât staticâitâs a strategy. Standing still is how life catches you flat-footed. True stability is an illusion. It comes from continuously thinking ahead and making bold moves, especially when you sense disruption on the horizon. Even if youâve already faced a career setback, itâs never too late to make a bold move. You never know what could happen next.
Who dares wins,
âď¸ Kirby