2 November 2026
I Put My Education on Hold for a Year and a Half to Teach My Children at Home
I Put My Education on Hold for a Year and a Half to Teach My Children at Home

There was a season when I put my education and career on hold for a year and a half to teach my children at home.
It was a lonely and painful journey. I stood by my children, even when the road felt difficult. When they were settled, I returned to school and continued working towards my own future.
That is the heart of this story: a mother making a choice for her children, carrying the weight of that choice, and finding her way back to her own plans.
Choosing to stand by my children
The wider situation at school had become serious. I felt my child was not getting the support they needed. As a mother, I had to pay attention to what was happening and consider what would help my children feel safe and settled.
I chose to teach them at home for a time. That meant putting my education and career on hold. I did not make that choice because it was easy. I made it because, in that moment, standing by my children mattered.
A decision like that can hold more than one feeling. There can be love and determination, but also uncertainty about what comes next. I knew I was stepping away from my own plans, even if only for a season. I also knew my children needed me beside them.

The loneliness behind the decision
I want to be honest about the difficult part: it was lonely and painful.
When a parent makes a big decision for their children, people may see the choice from the outside. They might not see the emotional weight of it, or the way it changes what the parent had planned for their own life.
For a year and a half, my education and career were on hold while I taught my children at home. That was not a small pause. It was a significant part of my journey, and I felt the difficulty of it.
Sometimes we talk about a mother's sacrifice as if love makes every sacrifice painless. It does not. You can love your children deeply and still feel the loss of time, direction or momentum in your own life. Saying that does not make you a bad mother. It simply tells the truth about how demanding this season can be.
Research has also explored parents’ wellbeing and loneliness during pandemic periods when many families had to manage schooling at home. Those circumstances are not the same as my experience, and they are not the same as every family’s home-education journey. But they are a reminder that the wellbeing of the parent matters too. You can read the research on parental wellbeing and home-schooling during the pandemic and schooling at home, wellbeing and loneliness.
Making home a safe place to talk
My story is connected to a wider lesson I have learned as a parent: our children need to feel safe telling us what is happening at school.
That means listening. It means taking their words seriously and following up when something does not feel right. It means making space for them to talk without feeling that they will be dismissed.
I know what it can feel like to have to speak up in a school setting when English is not your first language. I am a foreigner and I am not fluent in English. In the wider journey, I went to the school and spoke in my African English. I appealed decisions because I wanted my child to be heard.
I even injured my knee after falling at the train station, and I still have the scar. That was a difficult moment, but it did not stop me from continuing to speak up for my child.
The lesson I want other parents to take from this is not that every family must make the same choice I made. Each family’s circumstances are different. It is that your child needs to know they can come to you. Listen, believe them, and follow up. And if you are a foreign parent or you are not confident in English, please do not assume that your voice does not matter. You can still speak up for your child.
Faith in a difficult season
Faith carried me through. When I look back at the challenges, the words that come to me are: “I pulled through with faith.”
That does not mean the journey was easy, or that I never felt pain. It means faith was part of what helped me keep going through a season that asked a great deal of me.
Faith can be an anchor when you are dealing with uncertainty. It can remind you that a hard chapter is not necessarily the whole story. For me, it helped me hold on while I stood by my children and made my way through a lonely time.

My own future was still there
When my children were settled, I returned to school. I continued working towards my own future.
That part matters to me. Putting my education and career on hold did not mean they no longer mattered. It meant I stepped away for a time to respond to what my family needed. When the season changed, I came back to my own studies and plans.
For women building a career or a business, a pause can sometimes feel like falling behind. But one season does not define your whole life. A temporary change in direction does not erase your goals, your abilities or the work you have already done. My journey included both caring for my children and returning to my own future.
I am sharing this not to say that every mother should pause her education or career. I am sharing it because some parents may be facing a difficult decision and feeling alone in it. You may be trying to work out how to support your child while also holding on to your own hopes. It is a hard place to stand.

If you are facing a similar choice
I cannot tell you what decision is right for your family. I can only share what I lived: I put my education and career on hold for a year and a half, taught my children at home, and stood by them through a lonely and painful journey. When they were settled, I returned to school.
If you are considering a similar step, give yourself permission to think carefully about what your children need and what you can manage. Your wellbeing matters as well. Where possible, talk with someone you trust and seek support rather than carrying everything alone. Your path does not have to look exactly like mine to be a loving one.
And if your children tell you something is wrong, make home a place where they can speak openly. Listen. Believe them. Follow up. You do not have to be fluent in English or have perfect words to show your child that you are standing with them.
I took a pause for my children, but I did not give up on my future. I kept going, held by faith, and returned to the work of building the life I still hoped for.
You can read more of my stories in the Journal.