The email came in the early afternoon: “Your Role Has Been Impacted.” I was at my desk working. I read it once, then I read it again. Thirteen years, and it all ended in an email. The decision had been made for me, and there was something almost clarifying about that. I’d been carrying more uncertainty than I realized, and suddenly that question was off the table.

Tenure is a rare thing in tech. Thirteen years at one company means you’ve seen enough seasons to know which arguments are new and which ones have simply changed clothes over the years. I’ve seen new hires grow into leaders over years. I’ve watched products turn into businesses. I’ve watched the industry change its mind about things it was absolutely certain about. That perspective is valuable — it’s made me a better leader, a better teammate, a better human. Sometimes long tenure in tech creates transitions that feel different than they might in other industries.

I’m grateful for the run. I got to work with some truly fantastic people. I got to build things that mattered at a global scale. I had the privilege to build people, lead teams, shape products, and watch ideas turn into something real. That’s not nothing.

I’ve been working since I was 15, and I’ve had the privilege of taking one sabbatical in my 20s and two one-month breaks between role changes. In each of those experiences, I forgot what the word Monday meant. But each of those experiences was on my terms. This change was made for me. Now, I’m going to let Monday be something different.

The first Monday after, I helped a good friend fireproof his backyard. There’s something about physical work — after so many years of surfing a desk — that I found satisfying. The Stihl weedeater flew through all kinds of underbrush with marked ease. I’d taken a few volunteer days off from work doing this kind of work for my community. Now I might be able to do some more.

I’ve taken some time to really dig into AI, the force that is changing the landscape faster than all of us want to realize, and I’m learning a lot. That’s a conversation for a future blog, and I’m finding joy in the tech again. I’m seeing what AI can do for me and I’m stoked at the opportunities.

Now some of the harder work begins. A trusted friend told me it takes a few months before you start authentically feeling again — before the noise quiets down enough to figure out what’s actually next. I want to find that spark again. Invest in myself. Start treating my body better.

Honestly, I don’t know what comes next. For now, I’ve joined unPTO, a group of people all in the same situation as I am that go for a hike every Monday morning. I’m thinking about new motorcycle adventures. I’m looking forward to some volunteer work with the Nightscout Foundation — they build open source insulin delivery systems for Type 1 diabetics, and that one’s personal. I want to spend real time with family and friends from the east coast to “go back to my roots.” I want to use this time to make myself better, even if I don’t know what that looks like from this vantage point. However this season ends, I’ll look different and I’m ok with that.

For now, I’m going to breathe and give myself space to find out.