Laid off from admin work after 45? You're not imagining how hard this is.
If you're 45–60, just lost an administrative or executive assistant job, and feel like the floor dropped out from under you, you are not crazy. The job market really has changed in ways that hit people like you the hardest.
Age discrimination is real. AI and software have eaten away pieces of admin work. Companies are hiring younger workers at much lower salaries for roles that used to go to experienced assistants.
You are not the problem. The system is.
This page is not here to sell you a "dream pivot" or a $2,000 course. It's here to tell you the truth, as clearly and kindly as possible, so you can make decisions with your eyes open.
This is for you if:
If that's you, you're in the right place. You are not alone, and you're not weak or lazy for struggling.
A few uncomfortable realities about admin work right now:
• Many companies now treat admin roles as a cost to minimize, not a career to invest in
• Software and AI can do parts of calendar management, travel booking, email filtering, and documentation that used to be "your work"
• Hiring managers often assume a younger coordinator will be cheaper, faster with new tools, and willing to "do it all" for less money
• Every "admin" and "coordinator" posting draws a flood of applicants, so older candidates get screened out fast
For many people in your situation:
Getting another high-pay executive assistant role in a large corporate setting is extremely difficult. Getting back to your exact old salary is unlikely in pure admin work, especially in the private sector.
That's the hard side of the truth. Now let's talk about what's still on the table.
Even if the market treats you as disposable, what you did was real:
• You held chaos together when leaders melted down
• You anticipated problems and solved them quietly before anyone noticed
• You dealt with difficult personalities and still got things done
• You saw how organizations actually work behind the scenes
Those skills do not disappear because one company decided you were "too expensive" or "no longer a fit." The problem is not that you have nothing to offer. The problem is that the old, clear career path for monetizing those skills has narrowed.
So let's talk about what is still realistically open to someone like you.
You probably don't have "dream job" options right now. You do have a small set of realistic ways to keep the lights on while you figure out what's next.
Think of these as survival paths, not fairy tales. Each one has trade-offs.
This is the most direct use of your current skills.
If you can get in the door, some construction and trades offices will actually see your age as an asset.
If you have some time and a bit of financial runway, support roles around healthcare and patient services can be worth a look.
This is the path a lot of people end up on, even if it's no one's first choice.
Sometimes the answer isn't finding a new job. Sometimes it's rethinking what you need to live.
Part of why all of this feels so heavy is that you are grieving more than just a paycheck.
You may be grieving:
• The idea that loyalty and competence would keep you safe
• The story that "if you work hard and are nice, you'll be okay"
• The identity you built around being the one who holds everything together
None of that grief means you're weak. It means you understand what you've lost.
At some point, the question gently shifts from "Why did this happen?" to "Given how unfair this is, what kind of hard am I willing—and able—to choose next?"
You do not have easy options. You do have choices. A few questions to sit with:
• What can my body realistically handle day after day?
• What kind of emotional load can I carry without burning out?
• Do I have time and money to retrain for 6–18 months, or do I need income in the next 30–60 days?
• Which is worse for me personally: physical strain, emotional strain, or financial strain?
Your honest answers point you toward:
• A lower-paid but more familiar admin/front-desk role
• A demanding but more stable field like healthcare support
• Relationship-driven roles in construction or blue-collar offices
• A patchwork of multiple part-time and gig jobs
None of these are morally better than the others. They're just different ways of surviving an unfair situation.
Finally: the years you spent as "the person who keeps this place running" were not meaningless.
Leaders built careers on top of your invisible work. Teams functioned because you quietly made sure they had what they needed. That value doesn't disappear because someone decided a younger, cheaper coordinator—or a software subscription—looked better on a spreadsheet.
You are allowed to be proud of what you did and furious about how you were treated. Both can be true.
You are also allowed to move forward, not because the system is just, but because you deserve a life that is bigger than this layoff.
You are not starting from zero. You're starting from experience, wisdom, and scars. It's not what you asked for—but it is something real to build from.