A little positive life update, with an unexpected amount of emotional recalibration attached. Since leaving teaching, I’ve realised how skewed my idea of stress and “working hard enough” had become. In my current role, I put in a fraction of the effort teaching demanded. I do my job well, solve problems, contribute, and go home. I experience almost no work-related stress. Somehow, that still feels like cheating. Even stranger is being constantly thanked for my work. Being told I’ve done a great job. Receiving kudos. Having colleagues suggest I apply for permanent roles or take on more responsibility. My first instinct is still: Really? Me? After more than 20 years of teaching, where I routinely gave 200% and was still pressured to do more, my sense of what competent work looks like — and what I’m allowed to feel proud of — became seriously distorted. So did my self-worth. When extraordinary effort becomes the baseline, sacrifice is expected, and there is always more to do, that gets into your head. I became very good at measuring myself by how much I could carry and how much of myself I could give away. I also deeply regret not leaving sooner. Not because I think I failed my kids, but because I can see how much teaching consumed. So much mental and emotional energy went into surviving work that could have been available to the people I loved most. That part is hard to sit with. I’m still getting used to the idea that simply doing my job well is enough. I turn up, contribute, solve problems, go home, and somehow people notice. I’m even managing to survive financially and fund my entirely reasonable BTS obsession without sacrificing every last ounce of myself. Maybe I don’t have to be exhausted, stressed and overextended to be valuable. Maybe doing good work without destroying myself is not cheating. Maybe my worth was never supposed to be measured by how much of myself I could sacrifice. Maybe work was never supposed to cost me quite so much of the rest of my life. And on that note, I'm voting for #ARIASBTS because those seven boys helped fuel this change in no small way and I'm eternally grateful to them.