on teaching and self employment

It's now six months since I stopped working from home. There are moments when I see the bank balance slowly emptying that I wish I had kept going longer. Then I remember those last six weeks of teaching, remember just how badly my health suffered, just how physically, mentally and emotionally spent I was. And then I wish I had pulled the plug sooner.  

In the weeks before stopping, I would often sit at the dinner table, my eyes heavy, the mere suggestion of a conversation overwhelming me through the fog of the fatigue. I woke in the morning after a long night of sleep, knowing that rest had nonetheless alluded me.


I was so happy to be building my little teaching business. To finally have more than enough students on my books to pay my half of the bills and even have a little over to put aside for a rainy day. Independence and security. More than I could have hoped for.

As well as working with students directly from home, I was also working four or five days a week in a language school down and out of the valley, over half an hours drive away. At the back of my mind, I knew that it was all a bit too much. That eventually something would have to give. I just wish I had stopped sooner. Then perhaps it wouldn't have been my health that had to suffer.


But despite my heavy load, there was a part of me that felt I needed to be so busy, that I should work like everyone else. Should. Such a powerfully strong word that we so often inflict upon ourselves as justification for things that are not good for us. So unnecessary. But still, it was what I believed at the time.

Despite my steadfast belief, there were many occasions where I admitted to Nico that I needed to slow down. He wholeheartedly agreed with me and offered his support. But I kept on going. Why?

Because I didn't have the confidence and self-belief to decline the opportunity to work more hours or take on more classes.

Because I didn't have the strength to stand up to my own fears of financial uncertainty to cut-back on my hours.

Because I didn't have the courage to accept that a little is more than enough, because in the eyes of other people I was "doing the right thing" for once. 

A sort of haze had installed itself when I first set up as self-employed back in 2013. Complete with blurred perspectives and a powerful determination to make my little business work. It was heavy and unyielding and I couldn't see my way out of it. Hence I kept on going. 

But then nature decided for me; I got really sick, had no choice but to stop. And just like that, it was over.

Months later, I'm still trying to recover from that relapse, but am also basking in the lifting of that self-employment cloud. Yes, there has been much sadness and grief at the current loss  of my livelihood. I have waded through strong feelings of shame at the thought of having let others and myself down. Not to mention quite a lot of frustration and anger.

But little by little, as I let all those "shoulds" loosen their grip on me, there has also been profound relief. Although I'm still waiting for the energy to return, for now, I'm feeling calmer and more at ease.

I'm never going to get things exactly right: treading the rope strung between what I need to do, what I want to do and what is best for my health and well-being is not an easy path to tread. Therein lies the complexity but also the opportunity for a challenge.


For me teaching languages, especially working one to one with students of all ages, has never been simply the physical act of imparting knowledge from one person to another. It is also work that comes from the heart, an opportunity to build relationships, learn and exchange from one another. It is something that brings me great personal joy and satisfaction...as well as stress and worry if I don't keep a check on things...and myself.

I still haven't quite decided if I'll return to freelance teaching or not. For the time being, I just need to concentrate on getting back to a place of stability and balance with my health and better well-being in my life.

If the time comes for me to embark once again on a new teaching journey, I'll do so with gratitude but also a little more care than the last time. I know I'll bask in the opportunity to once again sit down with my students, connect to different aspects of their lives, craft lessons and guide and accompany them in their personal learning journey. 

But I'll also try to go about things at a slightly slower pace. Be a little less ambitious of my physical capacities, a little more careful of my workload, a little more mindful of the impact teaching also has on my own health.

I'll take it day by day and this time round, I'll aim to continually take note of my health and well-being. I'll ask myself: "What's best for me?" - because I'm important, too. 

And if for some reason I decide that teaching is no longer a possible activity for me to pursue...well, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.