Losing Well
On comfort, consequence, and recalibrating a design career.
The layoff
My favorite VP, Bob Calvano, set up an early EST 1-on-1 on a Tuesday morning. It was an odd time. Pluto TV mostly ran on West Coast hours. So when the 8:00 a.m. calendar invite came in, I already knew. In big companies, timing is rarely accidental.
I joined the Google Meet on time. Bob went straight to the point: my position had been eliminated, and our entire side of the portfolio was gone, including his.
He still chose to deliver the news himself. One by one. Calm. Deliberate. I remember thinking: if I ever lead an organization, I hope I carry myself like this. Leadership is tested in adversity. That’s not something any design degree can teach.
When the call ended, my emotions were mixed. But mostly relief. It was my first layoff, and the only thing I truly cared about was whether it reflected my performance. The tension eased when Bob told me it wasn’t about me. It was the Paramount mass re-org.
Months passed. The holidays came and went. And I found myself unexpectedly grateful. The layoff confirmed something I had already been feeling for nearly a year. It became a catalyst for a change that had been delayed.
Sometimes an uncomfortable push brings the clarity we’ve been postponing.
The comfort zone
My time at Paramount was demanding enough to keep me from thinking seriously about my next move. And that was only half the story — external constraints limited my mobility. Over time, I stopped fighting it.
I stopped hunting for better opportunities. I let recruiter messages sit in my LinkedIn inbox unanswered. I hesitated when friends offered referrals.
When a recruiter from Palantir invited me to a private hiring event in Washington, D.C., I attended and was impressed by the work they were building. It made me question my own trajectory.
When I first joined Pluto TV, I was fresh out of college and grateful for any opportunity to grow as a product designer. And I did grow. But after almost four years, I had to ask myself a harder question: What kind of problems do I actually want to work on?
I realized I’m more energized by products tied to impact and resilience. Stability, income, and security are important. But so is conviction. And I had been choosing the safer side.
I want to design for products that live in high-stakes environments; systems that influence decisions, not dopamine.
MarginsLog
“塞翁失馬,焉知非福。” is a classical Chinese folk tale originating from the Huainanzi (《淮南子》).
It tells the story of an old man on the frontier who lost his horse, only to have it return later with another fine horse. His son broke his leg while riding it, but because of the injury, he was spared from being drafted into war and ultimately survived. What looks like misfortune in one moment might have been protection.
Losing my job wasn’t a setback. It stripped away comfort and forced alignment. It clarified the kind of problems I want to spend my time on: products that support high-stakes decisions; environments where clarity is not a luxury, but a necessity.
And this blog is where I think and write about that pursuit… past lessons, present experiments, and whatever comes next.