Laid Off After 25 Years in Tech: The Anxiety, Sacrifice, and Reality No One Talks About

Hello, world.Two weeks ago, I was laid off from Big Tech. After twenty-five years in the technology industry, it was my first layoff and it landed with a strange mix of confusion, disorientation, and, unexpectedly, a flicker of excitement. When you’ve spent most of your adult life on a clearly marked path, being pushed off it feels less like failure and more like suddenly waking up in unfamiliar terrain.Learning the CraftMy relationship with technology began early. In high school, I was already writing code, building computers, and tinkering with anything that had wires or logic behind it. By college, I was juggling internships and small contracts: writing scripts, building Visual Basic apps, learning by doing. After graduation, I joined digital consulting agencies, and those years felt electric. Every project brought a new language, framework, or platform. The world of software engineering felt infinite.I worked obsessively at the craft. I devoured technical books, lived in IDEs, and chased mastery with the kind of hunger only youth allows. For a time, it worked. I became strong and confident enough that my company sent me to hackathons, where my teams consistently placed near the top. Software felt like magic, and I felt fluent in it’s language.The Shock That Changed EverythingThen came 2008.During the financial crisis, I watched brilliant, experienced colleagues lose their jobs. One mentor—someone I deeply respected—broke down in tears, terrified she wouldn’t be able to provide for her family. That moment cracked something open in me. It was also when I discovered the idea of financial independence. A book, Your Money or Your Life, reframed how I thought about work, not as a ladder, but as an exchange of life energy for money.From that point on, my family changed how we lived. We became deliberate. Frugal. Intent on saving not just money, but time and choice. It wasn’t about deprivation; it was about buying freedom.Climbing the LadderMy career continued to grow. I moved from developer to tech lead, from architect to senior technical leadership. Over twenty-five years, I changed companies, designed platforms, led teams, and eventually landed in Big Tech, where compensation reached levels that still feel absurd when I think about them.The perks were real. I traveled across North America, Europe, and India. I worked on cutting-edge systems, earned patents, and collaborated with people who were brilliant, disciplined, and generous with their knowledge. For all its flaws, tech gave me access to extraordinary minds and experiences.The Cost of the GrindBut the costs were real too.Tech is relentless. Long hours became longer once teams went global. Early mornings blended into late nights. Learning never stopped, and in my forties, learning started to feel heavier, slower. Still possible, but harder.Worse than the fatigue was the creeping sense of futility. The problems we solved felt recycled. The products rarely made the world meaningfully better. I poured years of effort into systems that would be replaced, forgotten, or quietly deprecated.That time came from somewhere, mostly my family. There were years when I had only an hour each night with my kids. An hour to read, talk, tuck them in. My son is a teenager now, and I can feel how little time remains before he’s grown. That realization weighs heavily: how much of what I missed can never be recovered.Mortality and MemoryA few years ago, a colleague, brilliant, hardworking, devoted, he fell ill during a brutal push at work before Christmas. He never came back. The company honored him respectfully, but within a month, it was as if he’d never existed. That realization lingered.Then, earlier this year, my wife suffered a serious health crisis that left her partially disabled. It shattered the illusion that time is guaranteed. Tomorrow isn’t promised. And once you truly understand that, trading your life for work that doesn’t matter feels indefensible.Choosing the LayoffMeanwhile, the industry itself was changing. Interest rates rose. Offshoring accelerated. AI tools reduced the need for human labor. Layoffs came in waves. When my turn arrived, I learned I could protect several junior colleagues by putting myself first on the list.So I did.My former employer treated me fairly, with warning, severance, and respect. For that, I’m grateful. But the chapter still ended.Writing the Next OneNow I stand somewhere unfamiliar. The path I followed for decades is gone, replaced by countless trails, none yet chosen. It feels like wilderness, uncertain, but alive with possibility.This is an inflection point. I need to design a life that is mentally healthy, physically sustainable, and genuinely meaningful. That’s why I’m writing. Why I’m recording. Why I’m documenting this moment.The future is an undiscovered country. And for the first time in a long while, I get to decide how the story is written.—Thanks for reading. Talk soon. Get full access to AsianDadEnergy's Newsletter at asiandadenergy.substack.com/subscribe