I didn’t quit because I hated teaching. I quit because it was killing me.
Here’s the scene:
It’s 3:24 AM. I’m wide awake—again. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, already thinking about the lesson I’m supposed to deliver in 5 hours. Not ready. Definitely not rested.
The thoughts keep circling:
- What if I bomb the lesson?
- What’s the admin going to throw at me today?
- How am I supposed to teach 30 kids when half of them don’t care and the other half are bouncing off the walls?
And oh yeah—there’s that unpaid extra meeting at lunch because “we need to prioritize the students.”
The students were fine. I was not.
Here’s the thing no one tells you about teaching:
It drains you completely. Emotionally. Physically. Mentally. It steals your evenings, hijacks your weekends, and shoves guilt down your throat anytime you think of doing something—anything—for yourself.
But I stuck it out.
Because quitting? Quitting felt like failing.
Until one day, I realized this:
Staying wasn’t noble. It was survival. And I was barely surviving.
Step 1: The Wake-Up Call
I hit my breaking point after a particularly “fun” day:
- Two kids fought in class.
- I got chewed out for not “managing my room better.”
- Oh, and I spent £78 on supplies for a project that admin approved but didn’t fund.
I sat in my car after school, staring at the steering wheel, thinking:
“Is this it? Is this my life? Scraping by while they pile on more and more?”
That day, I made a promise to myself: I’d find a way out.
Step 2: Seeing My Skills Differently
I thought leaving teaching meant I’d have to start over. That I had no other skills.
Wrong.
Here’s what I realized:
- Classroom management = Leadership and team coordination.
- Lesson planning = Project management and strategy.
- Behavior management = Conflict resolution and negotiation.
- Tracking progress = Data analysis and results-based thinking.
Teachers don’t “just teach.” We solve problems, manage chaos, hit goals, and communicate like pros.
Turns out, the real world pays BIG for those skills.
Step 3: Taking the Leap (Terrifying, But Worth It)
I started small:
- Rewrote my resume—no “teacher jargon.”
- Applied for remote jobs. Training, coaching, consulting—things where my skills translated.
- Got rejected a lot. Cried more than once. Almost gave up.
But then it happened.
I landed a role as an social media manager for a hair transplant clinic. Remote. Flexible hours.
My first paycheck? £3,500 for posting content on Instagram.
A year later, I was leading workshops, consulting businesses, and working 30 hours a week. My income? Tripled.
And for the first time in years, I had my evenings back. My weekends were mine again.
Step 4: What Life Looks Like Now
Here’s what’s changed:
- I sleep through the night.
- I spend mornings with a coffee in hand—not a lesson plan.
- I work fewer hours, earn more money, and actually feel like myself again.
Leaving teaching wasn’t “quitting.” It was choosing to value myself.
And if you’re reading this, stuck in the same cycle, I want you to hear this loud and clear:
You’re not failing by leaving. You’re saving yourself.
If you’re ready to take the leap, start here:
- Look at your skills—they’re more valuable than you think.
- Rewrite your resume to highlight your leadership, management, and strategy.
- Take the first step. Any step.
You don’t have to stay stuck.
Your life is waiting for you on the other side of that decision.
What’s stopping you from leaving? Let’s talk.
Let me know if this speaks to you—I’ve been where you are, and I can promise: there’s freedom on the other side.
If you’re ready to leave teaching and start fresh, I’ve written something to help: So You Want To Quit Teaching? A No-BS Guide To Escaping The Classroom And Building A Better Life
