In 2021, after twelve years as a high school English teacher, I stepped away to be present with my then four-year-old daughter and eleven-month-old son. While I’m still unsure what motivated that decision—motherhood, the pandemic, changes in education or myself—it set me on a path of growth and healing. We called it “The Year We Spent Together.”
Before that year, I felt like I was either a mom or a teacher, neglecting my sense of self. During my time away, I gradually reconnected with who I was and what mattered to me.
I still dream about our outdoor days and the abundant sunshine. Despite busy schedules, I made time for routine walks in the park. Photos remind me of zoo trips, parks, conservatories, splash pads, and festivals. While baby books claim outside and water soothe babies, I found they healed me too. We all began sleeping, feeling, and smiling better as a result.
Within a few short months of being home, it quickly became apparent to me that I hadn’t been taking care of myself in the same capacity that I was caring for others. It was during that year that I discovered a new gym where I was educated on how I’d gotten to where I was and what I needed to do to improve the quality of both my physical and mental health. Week by week, I grew stronger and prouder of who I was inside and out.
This one probably comes as no surprise, but I love to read. My line of work didn’t always allow time for me to read for pleasure, so I vowed to get back to it during that year off. I was reunited with the magical world of books and even found time to write again, something I hadn’t done in years. I quickly got in the habit of dusting off my Bible and making time for spirituality before the kids woke up and then reading some fiction until my eyeballs closed at night. Whether it was about parenting or some fantasy world, reading reminded me that life is messy and that we have to find ways to cope so that we find out what’s in the next chapter.
So week after week I loved myself and pushed myself in ways I had neglected for so many years. The real beauty was watching my children witness the benefits of self care. My daughter started doing yoga with me, my son enjoyed weekly walks in the park while big sister was at preschool, we read countless books together, and I slowly modeled self care in a way that I still see proof of now four years later. Finally, and perhaps my favorite memory, was that of simply being together. Children have this fearless, zero cares approach to trying new things, and I’m so blessed to have been alongside them as they explored new slides, acquired some bruises, met new people, and danced without embarrassment wherever and whenever. Because of that year our bond is stronger, and I’m privileged to get to experience their childhood. I’d be remiss if I didn’t also thank my village — family, friends, coworkers, other moms. You reminded me why relationships and togetherness matters and that we were never meant to do life alone.
I’m well aware that it’s not realistic to recommend that all parents take a year off of work, but I can challenge you to be intentional in doing what matters. Slow down. Be where your feet are. Make time to bask in the sun. Find your people. Take a look in the mirror. Are you living with purpose? Are you making time for what brings you joy? Are you living a life worth mimicking?
We’ve been back to reality for four years now, and I’d be lying if I said it was smooth sailing thereafter. But I practice gratitude daily and continue to improve where possible so that I never have to look back and wonder who I was or what I stood for. And while my children may easily forget that year we spent together, I will surely never forget it.