There’s a specific kind of support that hits different.
Not the “Nice to meet you!” LinkedIn kind.
Not the “Let’s grab coffee sometime!” kind.
I mean the people who have known you long enough to have receipts.
The coworkers from ten+ years ago. The ones who watched you fumble, learn, grow, win, rebuild, win again… and still stuck around.
And honestly? In today’s economy, that kind of relationship might be one of the most valuable career assets you can have.
Because they didn’t just meet the polished version of you.
They met you before you had the title.
Before you had the confidence.
Before you knew what you were doing…
(or at least before you knew how to pretend.)
They saw you:
talk too much in meetings (me)
stay too quiet in meetings (never)
overwork (sometimes)
underdeliver (depends who you ask)
absolutely crush something (hell yes)
get blindsided (1000%)
bounce back (ish?)
become someone different (absolutely)
And instead of walking away, they stayed close enough to see what happened next.
I’m learning just how rare that is…
(and how lucky we are to have it.)
Your old coworkers don’t just support your career, they stabilize it.
Here’s the thing: careers aren’t linear.
They’re not even logical most of the time.
They’re emotional. Cyclical. Full of weird timing and (a lot of) luck… plus moments where you’re convinced you’re behind.
And when the economy gets questionable with layoffs, hiring freezes, “restructuring,” the constant pressure to prove value, your nervous system starts looking for certainty.
Your crew provides something that’s hard to find anywhere else:
continuity.
They remind you:
you’ve been here before
you’ve survived worse
you’ve grown through it
you’re not new to hard seasons
That kind of grounding changes how you show up.
They don’t just believe in you. They remember the proof.
A new contact can believe in your potential.
But an old coworker?
They remember your pattern.
They remember the time you:
solved a mess no one else wanted
stepped up when it wasn’t your job
you handled pressure with grace
rebuilt after a failure
stayed calm when things were chaotic
led without the title (because honestly, who cares?)
That history matters, especially when you’re in a season where you’re doubting yourself.
They can say:
“I’ve literally seen you do this before.”
And that’s not motivational.
That’s data.
The people who know your highs and lows shape you more than you realize.
One of the biggest career advantages isn’t skill.
It isn’t strategy.
It isn’t even ambition.
It’s being known.
When someone has seen both your best work and your worst week, they stop treating you like a brand and start treating you like a person.
And that changes everything:
they give you honest feedback (because they know you can take it)
they recommend you with confidence (because they’ve seen you under pressure and they know you can handle it)
they open doors without needing a sales pitch
they remind you who you are when you forget
It’s hard to spiral when someone who’s known you for a decade texts:
“You’re overthinking this. You’ve always been good at this.”
That’s not just comforting.
That’s career-saving.
In a shaky economy, relationships become your real resume.
A lot of us were taught to do the things:
Work hard.
Get the degree.
Climb the ladder.
Collect the titles.
And yes, obviously … do those things.
But when things get unstable, something becomes very obvious:
Opportunities move through people.
Not always through job boards.
(Pour one out for CB, am I right?)
Not always through recruiters.
Not always through “the system.”
Former coworkers are often the first ones to know about:
a role before it’s posted
a team that’s quietly hiring
a leadership change
a company that’s stable
a manager who’s actually good
a contract opportunity
a consulting gig
a project that needs a trusted, experienced hand
And when you’ve built real history with someone?
You don’t have to convince them you’re worth betting on.
They already know.
So how do we lean into these relationships without making it weird?
This part matters because nobody wants to be the person who only shows up when they need something.
The good news is: long-term coworker relationships aren’t fragile.
They don’t require constant upkeep.
They just need intentionality.
Here are a few ways to lean in:
1) Check in like a human, not a networker
Send the message you’ve been thinking about:
“I was thinking about you today. Hope you’re doing well. How’s life?”
That’s it. No agenda.
2) Tell them what they meant to you
People rarely hear this, and it matters more than we admit.
“You were one of the first people who made me feel capable at work.”
That’s not cheesy.
That’s just real.
3) Stay in each other’s orbit
You don’t need weekly calls.
But a quarterly coffee (jk, wine).
A voice note.
A quick “congrats, I’m proud of you.”
That’s enough to keep the thread strong.
4) Be the connector (my love language)
One of the best ways to keep these relationships alive is to be generous.
If you can introduce them to someone, do it.
If you see an opportunity, share it.
If they’re building something, support it.
People remember who had their back when it counted.
The long game is still (always) the game.
A decade-long coworker relationship isn’t an accident.
It’s built through:
shared stress
shared wins
inside jokes
tough conversations
mutual respect
time
And that kind of bond becomes a quiet form of career wealth.
Not loud.
Not flashy.
Not something you can put on a resume.
But it changes your career in the ways that matter most:
you take smarter risks
you recover faster from setbacks
you get honest advice
you stay confident in uncertainty
you don’t feel alone
Final thoughts…
If you have even one former colleague who still roots for you, someone who’s seen your evolution and stayed in your corner, please don’t take it lightly.
That’s not just nostalgia.
That’s a professional advantage.
A personal anchor.
And in a world that keeps shifting, it might be one of the most reliable things you have.
So text them.
Thank them.
Keep them close.
You don’t need a huge network.
You need a few people who have known you long enough to say:
“I’ve seen who you are. I’m still here.”
With the utmost gratitude,
Kelly
