Why My Boss Calling Me a Liar Was the Best Thing to Ever Happen to Me

I’m a what?

As a child, I only ever wanted to be one thing in life: a teacher.

Growing up, I set up doll babies in my room while I read to them and taught them how to count. They had nap time sprawled through the hallways of my childhood home.

This caused a few quarrels or more between my parents because my dad supported my dreams of hosting hallway nap time while my mother did not. She preferred not tripping her way to the kitchen or living room. Twenty-something years later, I can empathize with this.

In middle and high school, I always thought about how I would’ve taught a concept better. I visualized ways of making the school day less mundane for students. I imagined decorating a classroom with clean lines, trendy supply organization, and plants to incorporate some nature into long days of learning.

So, of course, when it was time to pick my major in college, I chose Early Childhood Education without batting an eye.

In 2013, I finally had my degree in Education and couldn’t wait to begin my career path. I grew up with the idea that my identity as an adult would be ‘teacher.’ Sure enough, I spent my first five years out of college being a teacher. It was my entire life.

I was in the classroom every working day for 10–12 hours a day. There were some Fridays that my sanity needed saving; therefore, I’d make a beeline from the bus loop to my car once my 8 hour day was complete. The problem with this was that it always meant coming in before the sun rose on Mondays.

On top of my 50 + hours a week at work, I prepared classroom lessons and activities from home most nights of the week. I spent the majority of my Sundays lying in bed lesson planning.

To add it all up — I definitely worked more than 60 hours every week and sometimes I worked up to 80 depending on when report cards were due if it was testing week, and how many activities I needed to create for the following week.

What about summers? Don’t teachers get summers off? Isn’t that the perk?

I always loved these questions because they gave me a good chuckle.

Well, let’s see. By the time I packed my students up from the school year and sent them on their way, boxed up my classroom (rooms have to be all cleaned out for summer deep cleaning), finished yearly reports, and attended ‘final’ meetings, it was mid-June.

I usually spent a solid week catching up on a year’s worth of not enough sleep. Then, I spent about 4–6 weeks doing a side gig (usually babysitting) to make up for the lack of money teachers make.

While working my side job, I’d start the new school year back up. The arrival of the end of July or early August brought about the time to unpack my boxed up classroom, attend multiple training sessions, take part in required team building activities, and start creating lesson plans and activities for the new school year.

I had almost zero times for hobbies, travel, or rest. My identity truly was ‘educator.’

Then, my boss called me a liar.

Okay, not just like that. But, pretty much.

Five years into my teaching career and my first year at a new school, I RSVP’d to a wedding. This wedding was a flight away, so it called for a weekend trip. But, it fell on a holiday weekend. My school district didn’t allow teachers to take a Friday or Monday of a holiday weekend off of work.

There were two problems with this. 1. I couldn’t tell the bride and groom they weren’t allowed to get married on a holiday weekend. 2. I couldn’t understand why I should miss a very important event when I never took time off because of an absolutely ridiculous rule.

So, I took the day off and I went to the wedding.

I told my boss (my principal) I needed to take a sick day because, well, this was the only way I would’ve been given the okay to take the day off to attend the wedding. She had a few choice words including a reminder that the rules don’t allow me to take this day off and that she would have to report this to the district office. I went anyway, of course.

While on my flight home from the wedding, I got a very professional email from my boss. “I guess you weren’t too sick to go visit your boyfriend in Florida this weekend. I will be reporting this to the district office.”

When I said professional, I meant unprofessional.

See, the thing is, my boss was infamous for calling people out whether it was warranted or not. Maybe this was warranted. I didn’t exactly tell the truth. But, I couldn’t tell the truth. I could’ve told the truth and be reprimanded or I could've told a white lie and attended the wedding.

The way I saw it was I knew how massive of a bully my boss was. I had seen it firsthand. My school year would become extremely miserable and I’d likely be forced to go elsewhere for a job or I tell a white lie and things would hopefully be okay.

Since she somehow found out about my white lie (I still have no idea how), things weren’t okay. She called me out again when I returned to work. She sent another email, a nasty one. I informed her that I would also be contacting the district office to share her nasty and unprofessional email. Her tune changed. She took it all back.

But, I didn’t care. Her behavior forced me to make the best decision of my entire life to date.

I wrote my resignation letter, delivered it to her, finished out my school year with my lovely students, and moved to South East Asia.

Up until this point, at the age of 28, my whole life had been based around becoming an educator. I thought I would be a classroom teacher for the rest of my life. I thought I’d work long days, sleep very little, make close to no money, and never have the opportunity to do more. I’m sorry, but who let me think this was okay?

Here’s the thing though… I didn’t even know what opportunities I was missing out on.

Since quitting my job, I have become forced to become something else. I have been forced to become more. Now, I am not just an employee.

I am an educator. I teach others why travel is so incredible and life hacks on happiness through my writing. I teach Chinese children English online.

I am a writer. I write for enjoyment and I write for work.

I am a traveler. I have time to explore the world.

I am a dog mom. I have time to spend with my wild, adventurous pup.

I am a friend, daughter, and sister. I have time to dedicate to a social life.

I am so many things. Americans live in a society where success means getting a good job and making lots of money. For some, that may be what brings the most joy. For most, I think it’s safe to say, there’s more to happiness than a good job and money.

My least favorite question people ask is “what do you do?” I know they mean “what is your job?” The problem with this is that I don’t have one career title that fits into a category that most people expect to hear. I also do more than just my job.

My job is just a source for how I do things, for how I live my life. If one must know, I prefer “how do you receive income?” And, to answer this question, I am a freelancer who writes content and teaches online English classes. For now, anyway.

So, let’s change the meaning of what do you do? What do you do for fun? What do you do for downtime? What do you for joy?

And, more importantly, let’s say goodbye to society’s rule that days off are only for when you’re physically ill.