New Shoes

Months and months ago I wrote a post about my worry about settling in or simply settling. I was adjusting to a new routine. I was adjusting to adulthood in general, and I was struggling with it. I brushed it off and decided to just wait and see.

Recently I've started to compare my job, my happiness, and my satisfaction with my new life to breaking in a new pair of shoes; uncomfortable in the beginning but worth it in the end. I've put in hundreds of over-time hours and lost dozens of care-free weekends for the sake of my classroom and my students. I attributed the need for this extra effort to being an ignorant novice in a complicated world. But, like with a new pair of shoes, I was expecting it to be comfortable by now. Surely, after this long I should be settled in my new routine, comfortable in my classroom and feeling confident in my abilities. Only, I'm not... and I don't.

Do not misunderstand, I love my kids and the looks on their faces when they learn something new, especially if that something was tricky or something that they struggled with. Teaching is a noble and rewarding profession. Teachers are every-day heroes, and I will admit that I get a small  big enormous amount of satisfaction from counting myself as one of them. My ego is boosted any time anyone gives teachers the credit they deserve, or recognises the work that they do. Unfortunately, it doesn't happen often enough and I'm the kind of person who thrives on praise.

So now I wonder whether it's time for a new pair of shoes. Sometimes the shoe doesn't fit, no matter how long you work it or how badly you want it. And I'm kicking myself for settling in the first place. I hate that I took the safe road, instead of the one that I really wanted. I can't remember the last time I felt inspired to write and had the time and energy to actually do it. My passion does not lie in my classroom, but deep inside myself and I let myself down by bottling it up for a more convenient time. The cynic in me wonders why I don't deserve to be one of those people who loves what they do, enjoys going to work every day and feels fulfilled at the end of the day. The critic in me curses those who say that I have an unrealistic expectation of life. And the sarcastic b**** in me says that those people are the ones who settled themselves, and they're trying to justify their own disappointment.

I am finding it hard to inspire my students to follow their dreams when I can't say that I did the same. How can I preach that education is the key to their success and happiness, if I myself am so educated and still so unhappy. Asking my students to shoot for the moon and dream big leaves a bitter, metallic taste in my mouth. My clever kids are intuitive enough to throw the question back at me. "Hey Mrs Mac, did you dream of being a teacher?" And I lie to them, because telling them I failed myself just seems wrong.

I'm tired of waiting for "the right time" but I know I'm too scared and too proud to admit defeat to throw in the towel. It's nearly the end of the term, I know I need a break. But more than a break, what I really need is the courage to change my life.