I rewrote my life.

Last year, I quit my career to stay home. Since I’m a comfort-zone girl, I thought about even the idea of a change for a while, so the fact that I did this is still a little strange for me to believe, much less write about. 

If I’m being honest, I thought about it for two or more years — a very long first draft of who I might become. “I’m working on a rewrite.” Paul Simon sang. I get him. 

Let me back up.

I had been teaching English and writing for over a decade. I felt that I was contributing to the community and to my family. When my husband introduced the idea that it would be beneficial to our family for me to stay home, I really struggled with the idea of letting go of my “contribution”. 

This internal struggle surprised me since I wasn’t exactly raking in the dough as an educator. It represented my pride in my role as a writing teacher and my contribution financially.

“I was tempted to mourn my old life — the one that came with more recognition and a salary. Those things came at a price that was no longer necessary to pay, and I had to allow myself to acclimate to the new role minus both of them. ”

Soon enough, my children caught on to the idea that I might stay home. One daughter is in college, the other in middle school. Apparently, they both wanted help in these awkward transitional stages. Who knew? 

My friends also encouraged me to stay home, saying things like “You’re nuts, I’d stay home in a minute if I could!” But I was great at teaching, and I cherished my students. And what about my financial contribution? 

My husband, who is a numbers man, continually reassured me that my salary was not crucial. I finally surrendered to what maybe everyone else could see — and I could not. 

So, I did it. I quit my job.

It was surreal to leave a school where I spent more time than my own home. That first summer came and went, so it didn’t sink in for a while. It wasn’t until the back to school commercials started — until I packed my daughter’s lunch for her first day… until the last paycheck came. 

I’m not sure what I thought would happen, but I didn’t stop being me. On the contrary, there was no noticeable strain from the lack of my paycheck. The world continued. My life went on. I found a new role and a new normal. 

I was able to focus on my own children instead of everyone else’s. I encouraged my husband as he grew his business, and spent more intentional time with my extended family and friends. I was able to nourish my own spirit which had been sorely neglected thanks to lack of time.

I was tempted to mourn my old life — the one that came with more recognition and a salary. Those things came at a price that was no longer necessary to pay, and I had to allow myself to acclimate to the new role minus both of them. My new role may be a permanent situation, or it may be for a short while. Who knows. But I am in a place to process what may come my way. 

I’m not suggesting that everyone quit their jobs.

Of course, there is a time and a season unique to every situation and every woman. I am saying that if I can embrace change anyone can. Trust me, if you feel compelled to make a life change, no matter how scary it seems, do it. No excuses or delays. If you are really supposed to change, you will figure it out as you go. A re-write. 

In the end, I was blaming my hesitation to leave my profession on money or civic responsibility, but It was a red herring. I was maybe a little afraid to figure out the new me — as silly as it sounds to me now. My new role has left me better than ever. 

I now have something even more valuable than money: self-awareness and acceptance of myself. I have the time and energy to consider who I might still become or what I want to work on. A revised draft is in the works.