Leaving a job is never a decision I take lightly-


especially when it's a role that I've poured years of time, energy, and heart into. But after everything I've experienced, walking away felt less like quitting and more like reclaiming myself.


For several years I worked in a public-school position called a Multi-Coverage Substitute. Basically, I was an "on-call" sub in the building at all times. This position was established during the Covid era when subs were few and far between. This position was never guaranteed. Each year I faced the same question: "Do I even have a job next year?"


As Multi-Coverage Subs we are paid under the long term pay scale which meant that we received no benefits, we would go on probation every school year for 60 days, even though we were returning to the same school in the same position we were still held on probationary period. After 60 days without missing a single day, our pay would increase to full pay which was significantly more. After we reached our 61 days and beyond, we were allowed three unpaid days off without penalty. If we missed more than three, our pay was decreased around $90.00 per day for 10 days after the extra day(s) off. If we missed any days during the probational period, our days would start at day one again. Yes, you are reading this correctly- this is exactly the choke hold I was in for almost FIVE years. Now, you might ask, what happens if you're sick? You can go to the doctor and get a note to be excused. But let's be real, who goes to the doctor for a minor cold or stomach bug? If I asked permission for days off before the start of the school year, I was usually granted those without extra penalty since they were planned without knowing if I had a position or not. It was like rolling the dice every year. Would I make it through the 60 days or not? The stress and worry were a lot.


Now, back to the job itself. Each year brought a wave of uncertainty: Would I have a job again? Would my role change? Would my work be recognized? While my title never changed, my responsibilities grew heavier. I was expected to go above and beyond- planning, teaching, covering, creating, supporting, - always without the pay, recognition, or stability that others in similar positions received. For example, if I took time off, at my school I was required to make sub plans and secure a sub even though I was not getting paid for that day. I was being utilized as more than just a sub in the building. I had my own classroom, bought all of my supplies with my own money or I had friends who were kind enough to donate to my room to take that burden off of me. While I did not mind, I knew that others in the same position as I was had much less responsibility.


Why would someone put themselves through this? I did it all because I cared. About the kids. About my coworkers. About doing good work. I loved opening students minds to new concepts, novels, and art mediums they never may have had the opportunity to experience. I loved the trust most of my coworkers had in me and my ability to push students academically. Even though I was not a certified teacher, they trusted my competency. But over time, that dedication started costing me more than I could afford to give. The mental weight of always being "on" combined with the lack of respect and support- particularly from those in higher positions, became too heavy to carry.


What hurt the most was being passed over for opportunities that I was more than qualified for- not even receiving interviews for roles with more stability and pay, despite years of loyalty and going the extra mile. And yet, I was still expected to perform like someone whose position was secure and valued.


The final straw? I hadn't even been officially notified if I still had a position for this upcoming year. It was not until the last week of July that I received any notification that the position was renewed. In previous years I would know before the school year was out.


So, I made the decision to step away. I got a new position out of the public school system.


Not because I didn't care- but because I do care. About my mental health. My time. My family. My sense of worth. I know what I bring to the table, and I know I deserve better.


This decision wasn't easy, but it was necessary. I'm giving myself space to rest, to rebuild, and to realign with the kind of work that lifts me up rather than wears me down.


If you've ever been in a job that slowly eroded your confidence, your peace, or your sense of purpose- I see you. You're not alone and you're allowed to walk away.


I made this post for the pure purpose of hearing this information from me directly. I did not want any speculation, gossip, or rumors about why I did not return to my job this year. While I will miss the kids immensely, I know this is the right move for me.