What happens when you leave a job that has broken you but one that you adore . In December I did just this.

It’s never as simple as moving on. I never expected it to be easy . I never expected not to miss it. I knew I needed to move on , I knew I had more to give than I could in this broken system.

I also knew I was giving too much . I thought moving on would fix this . However it’s when I left I realised just exactly how much of myself I’d given , how much of myself I’d invested in the classes I’d adored and the colleagues I’d left behind.

In theory it should have been easy , I have an autistic brain that can compartmentalise .

It follows me though, not just the passion I had for a job I’d loved ; but the trauma. The trauma from the times when it all fell apart , when we couldn’t fix it or even keep our young people or ourselves safe, the trauma from a system and environment that can’t begin to support the children who need it the most.

My new school doesn’t fit me yet , it looks as it should and has everything it should , but it doesn’t have the young people I fought to make it better for, or those amazing colleagues who fought with me. I miss them , I miss them all , even those who it turns out weren’t really in it with me after all, maybe we’re all just broken by this in our own ways.

I miss who I was there , this is a sign that far too much of my identity was tied up in what was just a job. This is the place where I became myself though , where I dropped the mask , where I needed a confidence I didn’t have while hiding my true autistic self. I became me. I became me because I had too.

The trauma of the challenges we faced stays with me, the guilt that I gave up stays with me.

Transition and Moving on is a slow process , I am finding myself again though. What I do have is an amazing mentor who has been through it all- and more , with me. Unlike her I don’t yet have the passion I had back, I don’t need it yet, maybe that’s a good thing.