When I started this blog, it was therapeutic. Words are my love language. Words act as my fuel and something I have also given freely to others to show them love and support. As I started my doctorate degree, the words from my blog were replaced by endless pages of graduate level writing. It was fine because I was writing about my passions to impact the world of education through scholarly texts, but then the worst happened.
In January 2020, shortly after turning 50, I got sick, really sick. I was hospitalized 3 times between January and March and six times by September. There was a point where I was so sick, I couldn’t climb a flight of stairs in my house or walk down the hall in my school. My husband would find me sitting up at night struggling to breathe. While I believe I had COVID (but this was prior to widespread testing) I was also diagnosed with hypercalcemia, A-FIB, diabetes, and a parathyroid tumor the size of walnut.
Being this sick made every day functioning difficult, not to mention graduate work and leading a school during a pandemic. On top of this, my nearly fifty-year-old school undergoing a massive renovation that included teams of construction workers and classrooms in temporary locations. I won’t lie that when the world shut down due to the pandemic, it was a relief for me. I could disappear and not feel the burden of taking care of others because I could barely take care of me.
I began treating my health and showed some improvement, but later that year, I experienced a personal trauma as well as watching family endure an unimaginable tragedy. Few people knew the depth of my despair. I was exhausted physically and emotionally. While my body slowly healed, I continued to feel dead inside. Finding anything left to give to others (which is key in leadership) was just impossible.
Finding My Words Click To TweetI had lost my love of words and was happy to sit in silence wasting away inside my own head.
Somehow I had managed to pass my qualifying exams to enter doctoral candidacy during the height of my illness, but I lost my will to write. Even thinking about my dissertation caused extreme anxiety. I didn’t want to become an ABD (all but dissertation) statistic, but as I met with with my dissertation chairman in tears on multiple occasions, I was worried this was becoming a reality. I had lost my love of words and was often happy to sit silent wasting away inside my own head.
Finding My Words Click To TweetThis past June, I did the most difficult thing I have ever done. I changed my environment to find myself again. I left behind a school, people, and a community that I loved with all my soul. While I was proud of the work we had done together, respected the educators and would have done anything for them, and adored the children with all my heart, I had to change.
This past June, I did the most difficult thing I have ever done. I changed my environment to find myself again.
Two years of construction and district changes drained my passion. I had even considered retirement (which I became eligible for in January 2021). Luckily, with the coaching of three amazing professional mentors who were looking out for me and the undying love and support of my husband, I applied for a new job. Of course it wasn’t the job I originally thought I was applying for, but it was the job I needed. It was a school that needed me and the skills I possessed. I needed their love and appreciation along with the thrill of engaging work. It was a challenge that reignited my passion for being an educational leader. My change of setting even helped me get my dissertation back on track.
While I still have a ways to go in my recovery, I can finally say that after 18 months and the grace of God, I am on my way. The grief of leaving behind my first school as a principal is lessening. I love my new school and all the people in it. I am excited about the opportunity to learn even though the work is hard.
As for words, my heart is full from a letter written by a parent who wrote my superintendent to tell her how grateful she is to have me as the principal of her child’s school. This was followed by a letter from the superintendent telling me how grateful she was to have me as a leader in her district. My soul has been replenished and given my what I needed to pay this forward by sharing with others the words they may need to hear.
I needed their love and appreciation along with the thrill of engaging work.
For me, words matter. I don’t know if I will ever blog as much as I once did. However, the current state of our world has left many recovering from their own trauma and I hope that sharing my experiences inspires others to keep going. When you are lost it is important to do whatever it takes to find yourself and your passion. Change is hard, but wasting away is worse. Sometimes you have to let go of something you love to take care of yourself. You are worth it and eventually, with grit and the grace of God, you can find your words and a new love.
Finding My Words Click To Tweet