I'm Moving to England: Here's the Deets!

2017 has not been my year. The month of May was probably the worst month I've ever experienced thus far. I'm not telling the world this to ask for pity nor am I sitting here with a "oh poor me" attitude, because seriously, I am more than fine. And I certainly am not going to go into detail, because it's irrelevant (stop being nosey). All that matters, is that it landed me here. While I spent a couple days wallowing in selfpity, I had an epiphany and realized just how short life is; in the blink of an eye it could just be over. In the midst of everything, my life was not on the track I actually wanted it to be on: it was simply on a track I was comfortable with.

I barley blinked and there I was sitting on my bedroom floor with pamphlets from various teaching agencies from around the world. I knew my family and friends were going to tell me I was crazy, and I wasn't about to tell them what I was doing - not yet anyway. I had been accepted into a highly sought after Master's program, it was an opportunity of a life time and I am still truly honoured to have been chosen for the program. Maybe I am crazy for deferring my offer, but it never sat 100% right; not right now anyway. In my mind, I would have been crazier to accept and enrol and continue in school. A master's is my dream, giving voice to the voiceless is my dream (Master's of Journalism for you nosey people wondering). Teaching the next generation and travelling around the world has also been my dream for many years. Accepting one dream felt like throwing away another and I wasn't prepared to do that.

Call me a hoarder, but I still had pamphlets sitting in my closet from January. Call me crazy, but throwing them out never felt right. And there I sat, on my bedroom floor sending e-mails to every agency I still had a pamphlet for. E-mail after e-mail, the question that remained was England, or Australia? Well, the answer is both - eventually. My inner voices argued with each other: Warm vs. history. Surfing vs.culture. Palm trees vs. easy access to Europe. Pros across the board for all! My heart was longing for both.

After being somewhat reasonable and inquiring about the healthcare in both locations, it became evident that if I end up hospitalized (again), England offered full coverage. (fingers crossed my gallbladder doesn't get angry ever again).

My decision to change courses was rash. I spent days, and then hour after hour speaking with agencies, gathering information and researching. With agencies sending my profile to schools in England, I was beginning to receive calls for interviews and jobs offers. Feeling overwhelmed, I unplugged from my phone and e-mail for a few days. And then there it was; a connection in Oxford. I was smitten with the city, and with the school. Everything clicked. I was comfortable, and excited. I interviewed and everything went smoothly. But, the job was offered to a UK teacher with 20 years of experience. I was disappointed, but not yet upset.

For the next couple weeks I had various interview options thrown my way and I rejected most of them. Finally, I accepted one in Surrey for an Art and English position at a sports specialist school. On paper, everything looked perfect, but it didn't sit quite right. Alas, the job was not mine. So, after weeks of it raining schools, I now sat in radio silence. No job prospects, no Master's program, and no plan B. My Mom was thrilled.

AND THEN, it started raining schools again with only two weeks left to the hiring process. Still being in class, I had to discern what interviews I wanted to accept, because (ain't nobody got time) to interview with a plethora of schools while in school (skip a class to interview and risk failing said class).

Rain, rain go away come again with just a sprinkle and some rays.

I accepted a small handful of interviews. Among these interviews were private schools, two all girls schools, and an American school for Art. But the first school (in the second round of rain) I interviewed with led me to go back and decline the rest of the interviews. Everything went smoothly. I was comfortable, I felt confident in the location. And much to my pleasurable surprise, I was offered the job on the spot. To my own jaw dropping shock, I found myself saying yes without a second thought. I went with my gut in every situation.I said no to offers that didn't sit right, and I said no to interviews that I wasn't comfortable with. And I went with my gut in saying yes to the "right" school.

Where am I going you ask? You nosey person, you!

In August, I'm packing my suitcase (S) (x4), boarding a plane, and travelling to KENT England where I will be teaching grade 7-10 English at a very good school! I'll be located perfectly to take a 30 minute train ride to both France and London.

The common question is "are you going alone" - people like to ask this one. Yes I am. As far as I know, I am the only international teacher at the school. I will know no one and, if you know me well enough, you know I'm okay with that.

If you had asked me even six months ago if I would EVER teach in the UK I would have said "over my dead body - you couldn't pay me enough". I also swore I was never going to teach. Alas, here I am; six weeks away from travelling to England, and seven weeks away from teaching. And I have no regrets, no second thoughts. This is absolutely where I am supposed to be, and what I am supposed to be doing next year.

Never say never. You might find yourself eating your words.

Now excuse me, I need to go bake a big ol' humble pie.