Losing the Title, Finding Myself: Why Leaving Teaching Broke Me (and Freed Me)
💥 The Real-Life Mom Moment That Left Me Reeling
I wasn’t supposed to feel this lost.
But here I am.
Not a teacher anymore.
Not officially, anyway.
After 18 years in education, most of them spent as an elementary special education teacher, I finally sent the email I never thought I would. My letter of resignation.
And then… silence.
Not a single reply.
Not even a confirmation that they received it.
Until I followed up a week later.
🧠 What That Silence Told Me
I’m not angry at any one person.
But that silence?
It said what I think I already knew:
At work, I was a body in a classroom.
At home, I’m somebody’s mom.
And my kids? They can’t just swap me out with a sub.
That’s what this season has taught me.
That’s why I resigned.
But it doesn’t make it easy.
💔 This Was Never the Plan
We always planned for me to go back.
Even when I took a year off after my daughter was born, we still planned for me to return.
And I did.
I went back and tried to give 200% to my students and 200% to my daughter.
But it never added up.
Because every time she got sick at daycare, I had to call out.
Every appointment, every fever, every late start… it chipped away at my ability to show up fully for the kids in my class.
And that felt unfair.
Unfair to the students.
Unfair to their families.
And honestly, unfair to me.
Then we had our son.
And his needs are even greater than we could have imagined.
The plan was still to go back.
But plans don’t hold up when life changes everything.
🚧 The Reality I Couldn’t Ignore
I couldn’t be the teacher who always missed the first day of school because I had to take my own daughter to hers.
I couldn’t miss every Halloween party in my classroom because I wanted to be at my daughter’s Halloween parade.
I couldn’t give the best of myself to everyone else and leave the scraps for my family.
And I couldn’t pretend it didn’t break my heart to think about doing it all over again.
So I didn’t.
I stayed home.
Because I have to be a mom right now.
And honestly? I want to be.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel… lost.
🌫️ What No One Talks About
No one tells you how much your identity can unravel when you walk away from a job title you’ve carried for nearly two decades.
No one tells you that even when you're sure it’s the right decision, you can still feel completely untethered.
No one tells you that the grief isn’t just about leaving, it’s about all the dreams tied to that role:
The pride of hearing your daughter say, “My mommy’s a teacher.”
The fantasy of bringing her to school for Take Your Child to Work Day.
The joy of sharing your classroom with your kids.
It’s gone now.
And while I don’t regret resigning, truthfully, I felt an incredible sense of relief when I hit send,
I also didn’t expect the silence that followed.
Both from others…
And inside myself.
💬 What I’m Learning (In the Messy Middle)
Right now, I don’t know exactly who I am outside of “teacher” and “mom.”
I don’t have a tidy lesson to wrap this up with a bow.
But maybe this is the lesson:
That we can hold two truths at once.
That I can grieve the career I left behind,
And still be proud of the decision I made.
That I can feel lost in my identity,
And still feel grounded in my motherhood.
That I can miss the title,
And know I’ve stepped into a season where my presence matters more than any profession ever could.
✅ What I’ll Try Next (No Timeline Required)
● Let myself feel lost without rushing to “fix it”
● Remember that this season is hard because I’m doing what matters
● Find new ways to define success, outside of a paycheck, a pension, or a plaque on a door
● Stay open to what’s next… even if I don’t know what it looks like yet
🛠 For the Mom Who’s Also Let Something Go
If you’ve walked away from a job…
A dream…
A version of yourself…
And you’re not sure who you are anymore…
You’re not alone.
We’re allowed to grieve even the decisions we know are right.
We’re allowed to feel lost and still be exactly where we need to be.
Because sometimes the bravest thing you’ll ever do
Is walk away from a version of your life
So you can fully show up for the one that matters most.
