Thinking of Leaving Teaching? You’re Not Alone. Here’s a Gentler Way Forward

Thinking of leaving teaching?

If you are, I want you to know this first: I have been exactly where you are right now and I understand just how overwhelming and confusing this stage can feel.

That constant sense of being stuck in fight or flight. Knowing, deep down, that something has to change but having no clear idea how to get out. Your body under relentless pressure to find even the smallest sliver of light to guide you forward. The immeasurable guilt that rises the moment you admit you cannot keep this up much longer. The spine-tightening fear that keeps you frozen in place, sending you into the same thought loops again and again.

I get it. It’s a lot. It can feel suffocating and it can feel as though you’ll never find a way out.

But please hear this gently: you will.

Six months ago, I was standing in exactly the same place - burnt out, scared and deeply unsure of who I was outside the classroom. My nervous system was constantly on edge and my identity felt so tightly bound to teaching that even thinking about leaving felt like failure. I knew I couldn’t continue but the fear of stepping away felt just as heavy.

I decided to take the leap - not impulsively or recklessly but with intention. And for the first time in almost ten years, that constant knot of anxiety has begun to loosen. The storm of self-doubt hasn’t vanished completely but it no longer controls every decision I make. I won’t pretend this road is easy but I can say with honesty that life after teaching is possible.

One of the most important things I want you to know is that you do not need a perfectly mapped-out plan in order to leave teaching. You don’t need a fully formed business, and you certainly don’t need to know every answer before you begin. All you need is a rough sense of direction - an idea of what you might like to explore next, even if it still feels unclear.

You already have skills, experience and insight that the world genuinely needs, even if self-doubt is currently telling you otherwise. If you’re struggling to see your own strengths, ask the people who know you best. Often, others can see our talents far more clearly than we can when we’re stuck in survival mode.

From there, you can begin gently testing the waters. This doesn’t need to be loud or polished. It might simply mean talking about what you could offer on Instagram, TikTok, or another platform that feels accessible to you. You don’t need consistency, and you certainly don’t need hundreds of sales. At this stage, you’re simply looking for signs of interest such as: curiosity, questions, quiet engagement. Even without sales, that interest matters. It tells you that what you’re considering could be viable.

While your ideas are quietly simmering in the background, there is another crucial step that deserves your attention: getting your finances in order before you leave teaching. If it’s possible, focus on clearing high-interest debt, such as credit cards. Carrying debt while trying to make major life decisions keeps your nervous system locked in fear. Creating financial breathing space gives you clarity.

Alongside this, aim to save around four months of essential expenses - not your usual lifestyle spending, just the basics. Rent, bills, food, transport. Having this financial cushion changes everything. It allows future decisions to come from a place of calm and security rather than panic. Decisions made from fear rarely lead us where we truly want to go.

Something else I learned very quickly is that you do not have to burn everything down to leave teaching. You don’t need to hand in your notice tomorrow. You don’t need to have it all figured out. And you certainly don’t need to leap without a safety net. One of the kindest things you can do for yourself is to start building quietly while you’re still teaching - slowly, imperfectly and on your own terms. Progress does not have to be loud to be real.

Please hear this clearly too: inconsistency does not mean failure. Some weeks you’ll feel hopeful and energised. Other weeks you’ll feel exhausted, doubtful and completely overwhelmed. That doesn’t mean you’re not capable. It means you’re human, and transitioning out of teaching is emotionally demanding.

Guilt often shows up here as well. Guilt for wanting more. Guilt for feeling ungrateful. Guilt for stepping away from students, colleagues or a version of yourself you once worked so hard to become. Teaching has a way of becoming an identity rather than just a job, so even thinking about leaving can feel deeply personal.

But leaving teaching doesn’t mean you didn’t care enough. Very often, it means you cared deeply for a long time without the support needed to sustain it.

There will still be fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of judgement, fear of getting it wrong. But fear isn’t a sign to stop. It’s a signal to slow down, prepare carefully and move forward with intention rather than panic.

If you’re reading this and feeling that familiar tightness in your chest - the quiet voice whispering I can’t keep doing this forever - please know this: you are not broken, you are not weak and you are not alone. Many teachers are standing exactly where you are now, quietly wondering if there is another way.

There is.

And it doesn’t start with quitting.

It starts with preparation, clarity, and one small step at a time.

If you’re thinking about leaving teaching and want guidance that feels calm, grounded and realistic, not rushed or overwhelming, this is exactly why I created Sage & Sand. You don’t need to do this alone and you don’t need all the answers yet.

Sometimes, all you need is someone to walk alongside you while you find your way out of the fog.