When I sat down to write this blog post, it took me almost 2 weeks to begin writing it. I left my classroom in late February, but officially put in my resignation the first week of March. They had found a replacement for me by the end of March. It all happened so fast, I feel that I am still processing it all (that’s a lie, I KNOW that I am still processing it all).
So when I went to write this, I felt very scattered. It felt too soon to be writing this, but it also felt so long since I had my own classroom. Each time I sat down to write this blog post, I found myself staring at the blank Google Doc for 10 to 15 minutes, and then shutting my computer. Where did I even begin? Being out of the classroom has taught me SO. MUCH. It was hard to put into words.
Being out of the classroom helped me to learn to love myself. It caused me numerous tears. It forced me to reckon with my deepest shame. And it even saved my life.
Below I will detail the first main takeaways I have learned from leaving the classroom. Whether you are thinking of leaving the classroom or not, it may be good to read through this post to check in with yourself. Are you doing everything you can to take care of yourself? Are you having tough conversations with yourself and family and friends about your mental and physical health? Are you setting up firm boundaries in and outside of school?
Regardless of where you are in your teaching journey, I hope that the below points can give you some guidance in protecting yourself and your inner peace.
At the time when I left the classroom, I truly didn’t know what I needed. All I knew was that I couldn’t keep going on the way that I was. I was so deep in my anxiety and depression that I had no idea what my needs even were. I rarely ate. I could have slept for days if I wanted to. I didn’t even know when I would have to use the restroom. I was truly at my all time low.
I knew that, if I did not leave the classroom, something serious would happen to my health. I was dizzy, having fainting spells, and in a deep depression. My blood pressure and heart rate were all over. I was underweight. My anxiety ran my life. I could not find hope, which became amplified after my miscarriage in January. I simply didn’t want to be alive anymore. I felt everyone would be better off without me.
It took a few weeks after I left the classroom to learn to listen to and trust my body again. Over the course of the past two years, I developed a deep distrust of my body. For months, my body and brain told me I would be better off dead. My brain worried over everything and would never turn off. I was in a constant state of fight or flight, and always had adrenaline coursing through my veins. It was a horrible experience and I wish it on no one.
Eventually though, as the weeks passed after leaving the classroom, I reconnected with my body and truly began to understand it. I could feel when I was hungry, tired, and when I needed to use the restroom. I knew when I wanted to go out and do errands and when I had to take it easy. I learned how to create boundaries for myself. Not out of fear, but from listening to my body and what I needed that day.
And by learning to listen to my body, I began loving my body. Honoring my body and brain and myself was the biggest form of self-love I had practiced in my lifetime. By beginning to listen to it instead of forcing it to do things all day long, I realized that it was never against me. Through it all, it was just trying to help me. The anxiety was a warning cry, and the depression was the manifestation of me continuously hating and not listening to myself.
Looking back, it all is so crystal clear to me now. But at the moment, I had no idea. In the future, I now know what my triggers are and what to look out for. I hope to feel how I felt again, but if it happens, I will now at least be prepared.
You don’t feel the need to people please all the time
You may not even realize that you are people pleasing “all the time.” You may just think you are being nice, or accommodating, or understanding. But let me tell you something.
If it is running your life (whether it is a situation, relationship, or anything else) then you are not just being “nice.” It is walking all over you.
I used to hate the term “walking all over,” someone. Mostly because this phrase was often applied to me. However, I recently read that being complacent or over-accommodating in a situation is actually a trauma response.
Yes, you read that correctly.
A new term that picked up popularity in the mental health world is called “fawning.” We are all aware of the “flight, fight,” and even the “freeze” response when encountering a traumatic event, but rarely do we think of “fawning.”
According to PsychCentral.com, fawning is a trauma response wherein someone consistently abandons their “own needs to serve others to avoid conflict, criticism, or disapproval. Fawning is also called the “please and appease” response and is associated with people-pleasing and codependency.
Wow, this just read me to filth. This is my trauma response to a T. I didn’t realize how the last year of my life as a teacher, I was constantly fawning to appease co-workers and others around me.
It does not take a rocket scientist to figure out that I have people pleasing and codependency issues, either. My upbringing was wildly unconventional, and I was often treated as an adult not only in responsibilities, but emotionally as well. My family had horrible boundaries. At times, I was an adult in a situation where I should not have been.
I feel that we, as teachers, often engage in fawning responses in situations. We try to appease our administration, our co-workers who can get defensive easily, and even our students. I think part of the reason so many of us burn out so quickly is that we are CONSTANTLY trying to please others almost all day long.
If this sounds like you, even in the slightest, it may be beneficial for you to explore these concepts in therapy and with self-reflection. By beginning to unlearn people-pleasing skills, I began to find what I actually needed for myself. By beginning to listen and honor my body and my needs, I slowly have become less and less consumed with people-pleasing.
For me, it will always be a rocky road leaving people-pleasing behind. It was a trauma response for me for many years to calm down emotionally dysregulated adults around me. However, with awareness and a plan, I am able to see clearly now a light at the end of my dark, people-pleasing tunnel. And stepping outside of the classroom was that first step.
I sincerely hope that this first part of my 2 part blog series was beneficial for you. Maybe you did not resonate with everything above, but you can relate to my struggle through your own struggles. Either way, I wish you the best in navigating such a difficult journey.
Our hearts are in this profession, no doubt. We just sometimes need to use our heads and know when we need a break from something. Even if we love it.