Something had to change.
Year three of teaching English in a kindergarten and I loved it. My coteachers and I worked symbiotically, my little ones had come to trust me with their snuggles and giggles, my fellow ESL teachers filled our office with laughter-filled laminating sessions.
But I couldn’t ignore that I wanted to move on. I came to teach in Budapest for a gap year–it was never meant to be forever. And while the kindergarten was a wonderful accidental love, I also craved following my other interests like copywriting or marketing. No matter how much I loved working at the kindergarten, I couldn’t ignore that part of me had started to resent it. So I had to face the truth: it was time to break up.
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I spent countless nights staring at the ceiling, weighing the pros and cons of leaving: I truly loved my kids, I loved the security and love in the relationships with my coworkers. The hours were flexible enough for me to do some private lessons on the side. Was it worth giving up a good situation—even though it wasn’t my dream one—for something unknown?
The Breaking Point
And then…fate intervened. The pandemic shut down schools and canceled my program for the rest of the year. I still had the choice to sign back on, but now I had distance and clarity. So I chose to take the leap.
I needed a visa. So I applied to job after job, not even getting an interview. I considered grad school, wondering if I needed a degree to start over. It was a long road, but eventually I found a freelancer’s visa, and started to build a life around that!
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The Aftermath
It’s precious. Sometimes I still look back on the pictures face painting and spontaneous dance parties, and I smile at the rounded faces of the children I got to see stretch out and grow up. I remember the circle time songs, and the seemingly never-ending story times, the messy craft times.
During the time, I may have been stressed about lesson plans or fed up with laminating. But looking back, I just feel so incredibly grateful. I got to have the job of spending time with tiny humans. Yes, sometimes it was stressful or boring, but also I got to see them grow, got to help them learn another language. Hopefully wherever they go in the world, they’ll take a little piece of me with them.
It’s bittersweet. I fell out of touch with the coteachers I so loved; there’s just not much we have in common anymore. And I hear stories from my friend who’s taken over my class–my heart squeezes when I see pictures of them all dressed up for Carnival or doing a craft without me.
And then, if this were a rom-com, I lived the end scene: You know, the one where ex-lovers lock eyes across the street, smile wistfully, and then go their separate ways?
Well, the other day I passed the kindergarten, the kids at play in the garden outside, the teachers watching over them. It was a soothing sight, familiar. I felt such warmth and fondness. But I felt relief that I was on the other side of the fence. Relief I could build my own future, relief the kids had an English teacher with a fresh heart and all her patience to give. Breaking up is hard to do. But it was the right thing to do.
I walked on.
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