This post is part of a three-part series on my experience getting laid off as a recruiter. You can find part one here and two here.

It only took a few minutes for my employer to let me go. A scripted message, a quick hug, and then I was out the door with my desk packed up in a box.

I remember every last detail of that moment, and I remember how I felt in the days and weeks afterward. I knew I did my job exceptionally well, but it didn’t matter in the end. I was simply a cost to be cut.

I felt ashamed, embarrassed, angry — and I tried to bury my feelings in my quest to land a new job. But even when I did, the pain of getting laid off still stuck with me. I retreated from my work and ultimately resigned from the role after a few months.

Trauma changes us. Sometimes for the worst, but a lot of times, for the better.

For one, it builds empathy. As recruiters, it’s important for us to get to know and understand our candidates as much as possible to ensure we’re bringing in people who will add value to the company, and also feel satisfied with their role and place within it.

Now as we all navigate another economic crisis, we have to prepare for a reality where most of the candidates we interview will also be coping with the mental, physical, and psychological effects of being laid off.

I certainly can’t speak to everyone’s experience, but as someone who has navigated the dark and murky waters of job loss, here’s how I’ve changed my approach to recruiting.

I give candidates more space and time to make an informed decision

Before I was laid off, urgency was the name of the game. There is a lot of pressure for recruiters to fill vacant roles as fast as possible. It’s the metric leadership teams care the most about so any delays in the hiring process can be seen as a failure.

Now, I try to give candidates the opportunity to learn as much as they need to know before making a decision. They have a right to time and I’m not going to pressure them to accept an offer before they’re ready. Yes, urgency still matters, but now I think more critically about how long a candidate spends in the hiring funnel, rather than only focusing on the end result.

I don’t make assumptions about career gaps or short job stints

In recruitment, we talk a lot about the Horn effect. It’s a form of bias where something about a candidate grabs you negatively and you can’t move past it. The most common thing recruiters focus on is job tenure, looking at how long a candidate held their last role and the average length of time they spend at a job. Short tenures are often seen as a red flag and these candidates rarely make it past the interview stage.

Today, I’m much more mindful of not putting pieces together myself without first giving space to a candidate to explain their career journey. As someone who had their work experience cut short as a result of a layoff, it’s not for me to look at dates on a resume and make a quick judgement.

I have more transparent salary conversations

Leaving room for negotiation, i.e. lowballing the initial salary offer, is a common recruitment tactic. Some employers simply don’t want to pay market rates, or they might lower their offer if they think a candidate’s level of experience or skill set doesn’t measure up.

Now, it’s pretty common knowledge that salary negotiations perpetuate pay inequality. Laid-off candidates are also more willing to accept less than they deserve just to get back on their feet. To help level the playing field, I try to have salary conversations in the most transparent way possible. I want to find out what total compensation looks like for them. From there, I can be more upfront about the ways the company I work for may or may not be able to meet their needs.

I seek out partners in hiring

I may be an ambassador for my company and a gatekeeper in the recruitment process, but I have a limited perspective. My experiences aren’t universal — I can truly only speak to my own journey.

This is especially true when it comes to questions around Diversity, Inclusion and Belonging (DIBs). I have a particular insight in this area as a queer person, but if a candidate has specific questions about DIBs, such as what the work experience is like for women of colour, then I look for hiring partners who identify with this group that can have an authentic conversation with this candidate.

I’ve removed the term ‘rocketship’ from my vocabulary

Used to think that hyper-growth was a good thing; a sexy selling point for potential candidates. “Look at us grow! It’s non-stop which means we’re successful which means you must want to work here too.”

I don’t think this way anymore. Hyper-growth isn’t always sustainable and can have painful consequences. Now I spend a lot more time talking about why the company is growing, what the plans are, why we’ve gotten to this place, the pacing of our hiring, and the strategy behind it. While I can’t predict the future of the company, what I can do is help my candidates make the most informed decision possible.

I don’t try to ‘sell’ a candidate on a potential role

I don’t think my job as a recruiter is to convince someone of an opportunity. I’m not in the business of persuasion. I’ve evolved my recruiting practice to be more focused on listening and finding out what matters to someone. From there, I present them with what they need.

I put them in touch with those they want to speak with and help them learn more about where I work. I don’t massage information — I give them the facts. Ultimately, I try to remember what it’s like to be a candidate and do my best to treat them the way I wish I was treated when I was in their shoes.

These points above have always mattered to me, but my focus on them has certainly heightened since being laid off. I’ve never liked referring to recruiters as gatekeepers but in reality, we are. A lot of the time, a candidate isn’t going to get an interview or a job offer without going through recruitment first. So if we’re indeed gatekeepers, then we better be honest in what we do and how we engage with candidates.