I just learned that my teaching contract will not be renewed next year.
My district is going through a reduction in force (RIF), cutting teacher positions to save millions of dollars. Fewer teachers means bigger class sizes, and this time, I’m one of the positions being eliminated.
And the truth is… I don’t fully know how to feel.
Because while this came as a shock, it also feels like something I’ve quietly been expecting maybe even something I’ve been avoiding.
Struggling with Teaching
For the past two years, I’ve wrestled with the idea of continuing in teaching.
Not because I don’t care, but because teaching is so much more than academics.
It’s behavior management.
It’s emotional support.
It’s teaching life skills—character, discipline, confidence.
You’re not just teaching content… you’re helping raise someone else’s child. And that’s the part I always struggled with.
I remember after my first year thinking, I can’t do this.
I spent my days pouring into other people’s kids, and then went home to my own with nothing left to give.
As a single mom, that hit even harder.
There were so many days I came home completely exhausted—mentally, emotionally, physically. Days where I didn’t have much left for my own kids.
Actually… a lot of days.
I would walk in the door and instead of being fully present, I needed a minute.
Time to decompress.
Time to recover.
And the guilt that came with that? It was heavy.
Putting My Heart Into It
I told myself the only way I could keep teaching was if my heart was fully in it.
So I stayed.
I tried to embrace the full role—to accept that I wasn’t just teaching academics, but helping shape lives.
But even then, there was always something in the background: a quiet pull, a desire to be home more, to have more energy, to feel like I was actually living my life and not just recovering from it.
Because that’s what it started to feel like.
I never felt in control of my time.
I always felt stuck.
Breaks weren’t for living—they were for recovering.
I found myself constantly wishing time away… waiting for the weekend, the next break, summer.
And all the while, my own kids were getting older.
Year after year, I would reflect and realize… nothing was really changing.
Same routines.
Same exhaustion.
Same feeling of being stuck.
I always had this desire to do more, to create a life that felt better, but I never made the jump.
There was always something keeping me where I was: the people I worked with, the schedule, the familiarity. Something always made it easier to stay than to leave.
The Moment Everything Changed
Then everything changed in a moment.
HR came into the building, pulled me out of my classroom in the middle of the day, and told me my position was being cut.
Just like that.
And then… I was expected to go right back to teaching.
Like nothing happened.
I was in shock. Completely at a loss for words.
And now here I am. Seven weeks left in the school year. Sitting in this weird space between what was… and what’s next.
I don’t know exactly what I’m feeling.
There’s fear.
There’s uncertainty.
There’s sadness.
The thing I was too afraid to choose for myself… was chosen for me.
A Push Toward Something New
I don’t know what comes next. I’m still trying to process everything.
Maybe there’s something bigger and better waiting for me ahead—a path I haven’t even imagined yet.
For the first time, I’m sitting in a place of uncertainty. The unknown… and I’m not sure what to do.