After A Year

It’s been a year since I last taught formally in class. I MISS teaching, I miss standing in the middle of our small cozy classroom, I miss sitting while observing my students, I miss listening to their complaint as soon as they arrived from office/school, I miss arguing with the kids just because they held their pride up, I miss telling story as the bridging to the lessons, I miss preparing teaching aids, I miss writing down my lesson plans, I miss preparing all the steps and procedures, well more than that, I miss MY STUDENTS.

When I first decided to leave teaching out, It didn’t just happen in a blink of an eye. I got a month to fix things. That one month was the most miserable month in my life. You know the feeling of meeting those you would leave after in a month. It was really painful. Whenever I saw the kids, I felt a pang in my heart, especially when they sweetly said, “thank you miss, I love you…” over little things I did in class. Or even when they bawled, “aaah miss, I’m so tired, I don’t want to do this…”. I, that time, wondered if the new teacher would understand them the way I did.

The fact that a year has passed makes me believe that I’m more than I think I am. This past 12 months, I could bear all new things. I have been trying my best to love what I’ve been doing. Teaching is  my thing, but working as an employee is another thing. There was a time I compared them and ended up hating myself because what I want is not what I need. There was a time I thought I made a great choice quitting, but then ended up questioning whether that was what I really wanted.

Despite all the struggles and all the doubt and the fear I have in my head, I have passed my first year. Going back to the way I was last year is definitely not a choice. I’m not ever coming back although I keep reminiscing on how lovely those days were.

The place where I am now is my choice. Whatever might happen is the consequence of it. I’m sure I’m going to accomplish whatever it is.