I've been waiting for the period of my life when I would no longer be a college student. I've been anxiously and not-so-patiently waiting for my career years, the years I would be able to make a living wage in my field, and the years that I no longer worked in thankless retail, counting down the minutes until I punched out.
I made every action and choice over the last few years with this "future" in mind; the late nights studying, the hours in class, the terms where I completely overwhelmed myself with obligations and courses and work, and the complete neglect of my health and mental well-being were both subconscious and intentional components of my plan for success. I could rest when I got there, I told myself.
The last couple months of 2016 were a whirlwind. I was finishing up my student teaching and Masters degree in a terribly emotional political climate. We had four snow days, including snow on my graduation day. I was inches away from arriving to the phase of my life that I had prepared for, for most of my young years. I felt more fulfilled, and more like my authentic self that I had in a long time.
That time I had so deeply planned and awaited for has finally come.
I am here.
...what now?
Since my graduation in mid-December, I've felt at limbo, waiting for the feeling of accomplishment and success to kick in.
I received my sub license in January and began to substitute teach, and yet I was still standing by for the fulfillment and financial security.
Now, it has been 6 weeks, and damn it, I still feel like my soul is lingering outside of my body, waiting for a contracted teaching job where I could implement my own practice, in my own classroom.
When will it feel real? When will it be enough?
School has always provided me the structure I needed to be successful. As a very "type A" person, I need guidelines, frameworks and rules to follow in order to understand. 18 years in a traditional public school setting has served me beautifully in a myriad of ways, except that it has not prepared me for the unpredictability of my life and the field in which I chose to work.
I have felt so lost without this level of motivation and structure over the last couple of months. Substitute teaching is exhausting -- I wake up at 5 am during the week, not knowing if and where I am going to work that day. I teach between 20-30 unknown students, and meet no less than 10 staff members each day, completely draining the ambivert in me. I am on call all the time, in fact, I would even say that I am always on an "interview" for future teaching positions, so I must always be on top of my game. Most devastatingly, I am not able to experience the fulfillment of building relationships with and getting to know my students. It is clear to me that I never truly realized how important a routine is to my personal well-being.
Substitute teaching challenges me, which I do believe is good practice for incoming educators. I am exposed to such a wide variety of schools, teaching practices and philosophies, and students. I gain experience and knowledge that will impact and change the way I teach in the future. I also love being able to help other educators -- taking a day off, even when sick is such a burden. It makes me happy to be able to eliminate any stress I can for fellow teachers, by providing their students with a solid replacement.
However, this exhaustingly stimulating work has also brought another understanding to the surface.
I have always placed and rooted my identity in what I do to make money and move my family forward, never in what I enjoy doing or experiencing to maintain my sense of self-agency and personhood.
Self-care was not something I practiced in high school. I worked myself to the point of tears, panic attacks, and nausea, and rarely thought about ways to make myself feel better. Being stressed, overwhelmed, anxious, and fatigued was (and is) my normal.
After time in counseling, and being introduced to the idea of self-care by professionals in my undergraduate studies, I realized that my coping mechanisms and reactions to stress are unhealthy, and that while my general level of stress and anxiety was common among others in my line of work, it was most definitely not normal to be as stressed and anxious as I am.
For years, I would chuckle when anyone asked me what I did in my free time. "What free time?" I would usually respond, humored by their lack of understanding. I was a full-time student, with a plethora of jobs, volunteer ships and practicums being completed simultaneously. I stopped reading for pleasure, I spent my weekends cooped up at home doing homework, and my evenings planning for the next day. If I took a day off, I usually used it to catch up on sleep and housework that I had been slacking on. Again, this was my normal.
I am realizing now that I have so much more free time, that I am floundering and feeling so lost because I never fostered any hobbies, personal self-care practices, or interest in experiences! I spent so much of my time daydreaming about this time in my life, but only ever identified as a student and teacher. I lost the writer and avid-reader in me, the artist, the photographer, the dancer and gardener.
Clearly, this path served me the purpose of obtaining my degrees and licensure, and jet-setting me into my career. But, that part of my life has come and gone, and I have arrived where I have wanted to be for so long. I am more than a student and educator. I have so much more to me than school and work.
I am looking forward to nurturing all of the forgotten parts of me in the coming months.
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| This is one photo of many that I took during our huge snow storm in January. Seeing that photography is one of my hobbies that I'd like to focus on more, I will blog more of these photos soon. |
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