I Don't Know If I Can Do This": Teaching with Endometriosis

Living With EndoSelf CareChronic illnessTeacher Wellness

9 Feb

Last year was a mess. I spent most of it feeling like I was drowning, always behind, always scrambling, never quite on top of anything. As a type A girlie, it felt horribly chaotic and, honestly, embarrassing. I hated that constant sense of playing catch-up. So, over the summer holidays I promised myself: not this year. This year I'd be organised. Prepared. Calm. The kind of teacher who has it together. Somewhere between that promise and actually going back, though, I wound myself so tight I could barely breathe.

How Stress Triggers My Endometriosis Symptoms…

Being a teacher can be so challenging at times. So much extra work going on behind the scenes whilst listening to comments like "but you have so many holidays." It is exhausting. I know every year I teach will get easier, and that putting in the hard work now means future me will be able to relax more, but it's hard to keep working towards that.

Living with endometriosis adds yet another layer of challenge when going back to school, and stress is one of my biggest triggers. It's like my body keeps score, quietly logging every anxious thought, until one day it hands me the bill. The tight chest, the aching lower back, and that unfortunate but familiar intense pelvic pain that shows up when I've pushed too hard for too long. I was so focused on not repeating last year that I didn't notice I was already slipping into survival mode again.

By the Sunday night before school went back, I was exhausted and I had that hollow, defeated thought: I don't know if I can do this. Not dramatic, just heavy and flat and very real.

The First Day Back: A Turning Point

And then the kids came in for the first lesson of the year. They loved the classroom. Properly loved it. They were excited about the new setup, engaged in the lessons, and so much of what I'd planned actually worked. We even had a spontaneous dance party at the end of sport. There were so many small, grounding moments, like a shy student lighting up during a discussion or the flow of a lesson clicking into place, that gently reminded me why I do this. Why I care. Why this work matters to me.

It was exactly what I needed. Not because it magically fixed everything, but because it reminded me that when I'm well enough to be present, the work itself still fills my cup. That's the part I'm sitting with now. The preparation paid off. The work was worth it. But the cost (the pain, the exhaustion, the way I pushed myself to get there) can't be the price every single time.

Setting Boundaries to Protect Your Health as a Teacher

I'm learning that I need to care about this job and care about my body. To be prepared without being in pain. To set boundaries that actually protect me, even when that inner voice says, "Just a bit more... just to be safe."

I don't have it all figured out yet. But I do know this: seeing the kids thrive reminded me why I'm here. Learning how to protect myself is what will help me stay. That's the balance I'm working towards.

So, if you're reading this at the start of term, already exhausted, already wondering how you'll make it to the Easter holidays, you're not alone.

And if you're someone who has to actively protect your health, your energy, your peace just to keep showing up, that doesn't make you less committed. It makes you human.

Here's to a year of small wins, gentler expectations, better boundaries, and remembering that sustainable will always beat perfect. We've got this.

Anna x