From Teacher to Instructional Designer: Losing My Career, Finding Myself

In April of 2024, my world shifted. I found out I could no longer physically continue working in the classroom — the place I had poured so much of myself into, the program I built from the ground up, the career I planned to retire from.

It wasn’t just a job loss. It felt like I was losing a part of me.

So many of us tie our identity to what we do, rather than who we are. And when that “what” is suddenly taken away… It’s devastating. I didn’t just lose income or structure — I lost myself.

I started searching job boards, including IDEXX, hoping I could return to my animal science roots in a remote role. That’s when I stumbled across a listing for an Instructional Designer. At first, I assumed it meant teacher. But a little research told me otherwise — it was a different career entirely… yet strangely familiar.

It was a role centered around designing learning experiences.

And something clicked.

I realized I could blend two of my greatest strengths: my graphic design skills and my favorite part of teaching — building the learning journey.

That discovery changed everything.

I threw myself into learning. I took online courses, watched tutorials, studied portfolios, and earned every certification I could find. I didn’t wait to feel ready — I started where I was.

Within months, I landed an internship, then a part-time job. All working from my little bedroom office — which I love — running learning projects I used to only dream about.

And the best part? It doesn’t feel like work.

For the first time in a long time — after a year filled with difficult medical news — something was going right. I had found a career that fit. One that used my strengths, brought me joy, and allowed me to contribute again.

A job that didn’t tax my body or break down my mental health. A job that made room for life — for being present with my kids, for taking care of myself, for breathing.

The other day, my oldest daughter said, “I think it’s so cool that you can just change your career and learn something new just like that.”

It stopped me in my tracks.

In that moment, I felt proud — not just of myself, but of the example I’m setting. It reminded me that our kids are watching how we navigate change. She even started turning one of her hobbies into a little business of her own.

She sees me.

Even when I’m filled with impostor syndrome… the people around me see something real. And when the owner of one of the companies I contract with — someone who’s hired dozens of instructional designers — told me that I’m not just qualified, I’m great at what I do… it hit me all over again.

Maybe I’m not pretending.

Maybe I’m really doing this.

If you’re standing at the edge of a transition you never asked for — if you’re grieving what used to be and unsure what’s next — I see you. I know how terrifying, exhausting, and disorienting it can feel.

But I also know this: it’s possible to rebuild. It’s possible to create something even better.

You are not what you do. You are who you aspire to be. And sometimes, the path forward is hidden in a job posting you never meant to click.