Pure congrats: friend, sibling, someone you do not work with
This is the easy version. The person is a friend who got the offer, a sibling who finally made the move, a former colleague nine months into a search. Your job is one job: be unambiguously happy for them. Skip the throat-clearing about how hard the search was. Name the move. Land forward.
- Heard the news. This was not luck and we both know it. Congratulations.
- So happy for you.
- Congratulations on the new role. Nine months of interviews, two terrible rejections, and you got there. That is a story you will tell for years.
- The title is finally catching up with the job you have already been doing.
- Congratulations. They had no idea what they just hired.
- Right offer, right team, right time. Three things almost never line up like this. Enjoy it.
- Massive congratulations. After the year you have had, this is the news that earned the celebration.
- You wanted this one specifically. I remember the call about it last August. So proud of you for landing it.
- Congratulations on the new gig. First-day excitement is one of the great free pleasures. Soak in it.
- The new place gets the version of you the rest of us have known for years. Lucky them.
- Walking in with more relevant context than most people two years into the role. Trust it, and do not apologise for moving fast.
- The hard week will come around day forty. Do not read it as a sign you made the wrong call. Read it as the part where you start actually settling in.
The hybrid: a coworker leaving for the new role
This is the card that goes wrong most often. The same message has to congratulate them on the move and acknowledge that your team is losing them. Pretending the second half does not exist is the most common failure. The fix is structural: lead with congratulations on the move, name the loss honestly in one line, then close forward. Not a generic 'we will miss you' tacked on as a sigh. A real acknowledgement that something specific is leaving with them. The strongest lines in this set are also the most concrete: name what you will actually miss, not the abstract version of it. 'I will miss the one-line Slack DM before every meeting that saved me twenty minutes of confusion' beats 'I will miss working with you' every time.
- Congratulations on the new role. Hard to lose you, easy to be proud of you. Both at once. Wishing you a strong first month and a manager who reads your emails.
- You have outgrown what we had on offer here, and I am glad you are going to find out what you are actually capable of.
- Congratulations. The new place does not yet know what it just hired. They will. The team will feel your absence on standups for a long time. Go be brilliant.
- Big move, well-earned. The Wednesday demos will not be the same without you running them.
- The move is the right one, and we both know you spent six months making sure it was. Proud of you. Sad for us. Both real.
- Congratulations on the new gig. You have been ready for this for at least a year. The team is going to miss the way you fixed the deck the night before every board meeting.
- You earned this jump. The team is genuinely worse off losing you, and I am not going to pretend otherwise. But the new place is getting someone serious. Go show up for it.
- Going to miss the way you would Slack me one line of context before every meeting that saved me twenty minutes. The new place is about to inherit that and they have no idea what they are getting.
- The standup will be ten minutes longer without you to cut us off. We are going to feel it.
- Congratulations on landing it. We will be Slack-searching your old answers for years. Wishing you a manager who tells you what they actually think and a team that listens when you push back.
- You were the calmest person in every fire drill I watched you in. The new place is going to figure out why that matters around week six.
- Hard to write this without making it about us. So: congratulations on the move, you have earned it, and we will figure out the on-call rotation later. Go do it well.
Short lines for a group card the team is signing
When fifteen people are signing one card, long messages crowd out everyone else's, and the leaver reads them in a hurry anyway. A short line in your own voice beats a paragraph of generic warmth. These are all under fifteen words, written for the squeeze between two other signatures on a shared card.
- Congrats. Go be brilliant.
- Big news, well-earned.
- Wishing you a strong first ninety days.
- The new place is lucky. Going to miss you here.
- Earned every bit of this.
- Proud of you. They are getting the real deal.
- Hard to lose you. Easy to be happy for you.
- Congrats on landing it. Strong move, well-timed. Onward.
- Go do it well, and tell me how the first month lands.
- The new team is about to find out what we already knew. Congratulations.
What not to write on a new-job card
Seven lines you can save yourself from sending. Most of them are not actively bad. They are just so common that they read as filler, and the card loses any chance of feeling like it came from you specifically. If your line is on this list or close to it, replace it with one concrete detail and the card stops being interchangeable.
- 'Good luck out there.' The new-job version of a handshake at a funeral. Technically polite, transparently empty. If you only have one line, make it a specific one.
- 'Hope it is everything you are hoping for.' Reads as hedged. They already know what they are hoping for. Be on their side, not the fence.
- 'Let us stay in touch.' The corporate version of 'we should grab coffee.' Replace it with a real next step: 'Lunch in the new neighborhood. Name the date.'
- Anything that sounds like relief they are leaving.
- Gushing about the new role can accidentally read that way. Match the energy of the move without overshooting it.
- Long laments about how the team will fall apart without them. Once, as a real observation, fine. Three sentences of it makes the card about you, not them.
- 'You will always have a place here.' Almost never literally true, and it asks them to imagine failure on the day they are starting something new. Skip it.
Turn it into a group card
New-job cards have a real geometry problem. The people who actually worked with the leaver are scattered across offices, time zones, and the partner orgs that never get a Slack ping when a paper card goes around the floor on a Thursday afternoon. A passed-around card catches the people physically present this week and misses the remote teammate, the contractor who shipped a project with them six months ago, the cross-functional partner who would genuinely want to sign.
A free congratulations ecard fixes that. One link, sent to everyone who actually worked with them, and each person gets a real block to write their own line. You can create a card online in a couple of minutes. If the move is also a goodbye from your team, a virtual farewell card online covers the hybrid version. For more language on the farewell side specifically, the farewell messages for a coworker collection has lines calibrated for the leaving-for-a-new-job scenario, and the what to write in a goodbye card bank covers the broader send-off register.
One last note, off topic
The card I still think about is not one of the ones I organised. It is a card I got in 2014 when I left a job in San Francisco for a one-year contract in Berlin that I was not at all sure about. The card showed up on my last Friday and I read it on the BART platform on the way home. The line I remember is from a coworker named Marcus, who I had not worked with closely, and who had written, in green pen, 'the city is going to feel quieter without you in it.' That was nine words. I have moved four times since and that card has come with me each time. The new-job card is not the celebration. The celebration is the new job. The card is the thing they read in week eleven on a Wednesday night when the new role is harder than they thought, to remember that the move was right and there are people on the old side still rooting for them. If your line can do that job, it is the right line. And if it cannot, write nine words about the city or the standup or the one-line Slack DM, and let the rest of the card do the rest of the work.