Why I Quit Teaching

I’m not a teacher anymore.

I can’t believe those words are my reality, but here we are. I guess I should say I am not a teacher in the traditional sense. My classroom is now my basement office, all school-related decorations confined to a few tri-fold boards I trade in and out as needed based on the online class I’m teaching.

I have left the brick and mortar school and taken on the life of stay at home mom, contract teacher, blogger, and student. Student because I am returning to school to be an accountant. I’m six months from turning 30 and I’m completely starting over career-wise.

I have given a lot of feeble excuses for leaving teaching.
I’ve said I quit teaching to spend more time with my babies.

This is true, but still only part of the larger story.  I am so blessed to have this time with them. They are the absolute best and fill my heart with indescribable joy. I love being at home with them. But honestly, being a SAHM is just icing on the cake at this point. I would probably have left teaching anyway after last year. Having the boys at home only made it easier.

I’ve said “it turns out, teaching isn’t for me.”

If you know me at all, you know I am lying when I say this. I am passionate about teaching and public education. I’ve worked with some remarkable educators and I have the utmost respect for them. Teaching is and always has been so much more than a job to me. It has been my investment in the future of society, my way of making the world a better place. It has been my calling. I have loved it from day one. All of it: planning, teaching, grading, coaching, laughing with kids, exploring emotions, learning life lessons, celebrating successes–both in the classroom and later in the students’ lives. There is nothing like receiving Facebook messages and emails from former students updating me on their successes and thanking me for helping them achieve their goals.

I’ve said that I’m just burnt out.

But this is another lie. I’ve said, along these same lines, that after I returned from maternity leave I didn’t love teaching anymore. Again, a lie. The truth is I wasn’t happy teaching for the school I was in anymore, but I still love teaching. I still have the same passion and excitement for my students and my content as I did my very first year. I say I’m not sure what changed. Another lie. I know exactly what changed.

I can pinpoint the exact moment that changed me–that changed my heart.

First, a little background.

I know I’m going to sound like I have no humility at all, but I’m being honest: I am a damn good teacher. So I made the choice to commit to teaching in Title I schools, which are low-income and usually high minority. There is probably low parent involvement. Many of the kids feel trapped in a cycle of generational poverty and wholeheartedly believe they are not capable of or worth any better.

All the odds are stacked against teachers in Title I schools. Sometimes I say teachers in non-Title-I schools get twice the results for half the effort, and I’m only sort of kidding. I decided if I was going to teach, I was going to give the best I could to kids who usually got the scraps. If you are interested in reading a little more about what it’s like to teach in a Title I school, you should check out this post on the Love, Teach Blog.

My first school

My first school was unique, even for a Title I school. 96% of students received free or reduced lunch (the 4% who didn’t were administrators’ kids) and roughly 80% of the population was homeless. The whole community had been affected by rampant drug use, transience, and dwindling economic opportunity. I loved the kids so much, but the community was difficult to adjust to. The little town the school served was in the middle of nowhere–a small rural community–but many of the kids (and their parents) seemed to think we were all in inner-city Chicago.

There were days at this school that it was difficult to feel safe. Once when the principal was out of the building we had to go on lock down because a student’s father, who was not to have contact with the student, informed her mother he was coming to school to take her. The door to my classroom hadn’t locked in months and no matter how many times I brought it up, no one had fixed it. The student in question was sitting in my room. Luckily, the police apprehended the father before he made it on campus, but that’s when I knew I needed to move on to a new school.

My second school

I moved to a new county, a new district, a new school. The first couple of years were so wonderful that I described it as teaching at Disney Land. As time passed my perception changed. I don’t know if the school itself changed or if I was just finally seeing problems I had been blind to before.  Regardless, I wasn’t happy there anymore. I was seriously considering moving to a different school but I guess I was letting a few things hold me back. My coworkers were amazing. I had made some of the most wonderful friends of my life and I didn’t want to have to move to a new school and figure out new people. I’m not really a social butterfly.

This school was a typical Title I school. It had its problems, but a lot of talented and dedicated teachers work really hard to make it a great place for students to learn. There was no real reason for me to leave.

When I returned to work in January after maternity leave, emotions were running high.

I have no idea what happened in the building the 12 weeks I was out but many people  said “You should be so glad you weren’t here last semester.” Some of these were people who never complained about anything ever. No one ever explained what happened, but there was no denying a very clear shift in the climate and culture of the building.

In addition to a less than happy work environment, there were external factors weighing on the building. Our governor was doing everything in his power to take away teacher’s pensions and school funding in the name of balancing the state budget, all while vilifying teachers. Some of his remarks were just outright disgusting. In addition to that, there were two school shootings. One in Western Kentucky at Marshall County High School in January and another in Parkland, Florida in February. Whenever this happens, it leaves every teacher in the nation on edge, wondering if next time it will be his/her building.

Real talk: all teachers know that it could be our school next.

The reality of this set in with me when, in the aftermath of the recent shootings, someone made a threat against my building. It was days after the Parkland incident and a person stated he was going to shoot up the school. Emotions were running high, but the superintendent and principal took the threat very seriously and dealt with it swiftly. Authorities alerted the administration the night before, who communicated the news with the staff as soon as possible.

I was walking into a building that was already on lock down, the police were already there and prepared.

I hugged my babies and kissed my wife and promised that if anything happened I wouldn’t play the hero–I’d come home to them. And I did. I came home safely that day, and the following work day I got up and went back. Despite knowing it could be our building next, teachers operate like we feel safe and secure, like it’s not going to happen to us.

All of these things–the school culture, the nastiness of our elected officials, and the school shootings–were weighing on everyone in the building. We were all on edge, we were all dealing with unhappiness to a certain degree, but I still didn’t want to stop teaching. I still believed I needed to teach.

The day I was done being a teacher was March 28.

I remember because it was my birthday.

My 6/7 block class threw a surprise birthday party for me. My plan was 5th period. While I was out of my room, they decorated with balloons and streamers. They brought in cupcakes and sodas and cups and napkins and gifts.

I don’t know how they knew pink carnations are my favorite flower, but there was a bouquet sitting on my desk in a pretty little glass vase. I don’t know how they knew M&Ms are my favorite candy, but there was a cute little apple jar full of them next to the flowers.

They wrote me some of the sweetest letters I have ever read in my life. Tears of gratitude stung my eyes as I turned on music and started organizing a party game. After going through all that work I wasn’t going to make them do classwork the entire period. We’d celebrate my birthday for a little while and then begin class.

Lock down

Just as celebrations were beginning there was an announcement for a medical lock down. That’s no big deal. It just means students are not allowed to leave the room because, most likely, someone had thrown up or something in the hall.

Within seconds there was an announcement for a full lock down, meaning there was a threat. We had to turn off all sounds, turn off all lights, lock all doors, cover all windows, and sit silently on the floor as hidden as possible.

It wasn’t a drill. It wasn’t planned. There was no warning. We were just on lock down.

My students assumed it was a drill at first. But minutes passed and no one released us from lock down and the kids started growing suspicious.

“What’s going on? Are we safe? Is this a real lock down?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, “but I am sure we are safe. We have followed all the procedures exactly. This is why we practice.” I kept my voice steady and calm and reassuring. They settled back into silence.

Time continued to pass and I could see the strain on the students’ faces.

Text messages from friends and siblings at the high school started rolling in and the strain gave way to all out panic.

We shared a campus with the high school. A small parking lot separated our buildings. A man had shot and killed his wife and then come to the high school to pick up their son. The man had a gun and was on school property. (He never made it into the building, but we didn’t know that yet.)

“What if he comes over here?” asked a sweet girl. I turned to where she was sitting with her besties–the little group of birthday party planners. There was fear and panic on their faces. It was obvious it was taking serious restraint for them to not cry or scream or run.

I smiled at her and said, “I’ve been in almost this exact situation at my old school-and my classroom door didn’t even lock then. Every single one of my students made it out just fine. I assure you we are safe. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The kid and all her friends relaxed. I watched as relief and comfort replaced the worry and fear on their faces. All because of my words–because of a promise I made that I would die trying to keep–but there was no guarantee I could actually keep it.

And that was it.

That was the moment I knew I could not continue to be a teacher. I can’t explain why, I don’t even know why, but that moment affected me more than any other. There was something about giving those kids a false sense of security that has messed with me to my core.

It’s been six months, and I still see their scared faces in my dreams. I don’t exactly know what to call the emotion I felt when I realized I was being dishonest, but I still feel it every time I remember the fear in that girl’s eyes when she asked me “What if?” and how it shifted to comfort and relaxation when I promised safety.

I stood in my classroom and heard gunshots.

My small-town-America classroom. Not my middle-of-a-war-torn-country classroom.

The man forced the police to shoot and kill him.

My classroom was on the opposite side of the building of the altercation, so the gunshots were not loud. You had to know what you were listening for, and you had to be actively listening. I don’t think any of the students noticed it at all.

I had taught the man’s son when he was in middle school. I’d met the man a few times, too. He had come in for a meeting once. I saw the son and his father at the animal shelter a few months after he started high school. He was so excited and proud to tell me he had joined ROTC and was doing really well in school. His dad stood behind him and beamed with pride.

Steph asked me once what my take was on the father when I met him. He seemed to me like a good dad. He was rough around the edges and uneducated, but he wanted what was best for his son.

My heart aches for the kid. He woke up one morning for a typical day of school and by the end of the school day he was an orphan.

These things aren’t supposed to happen.

Teachers aren’t supposed to tell their babies goodbye in the morning and wonder if they are going to come home to them in the afternoon.

Students aren’t supposed to start a normal school day and wind up an orphan before the final bell.

Children are not supposed to feel unsafe at school.

I can’t fix these problems. There’s nothing I can do about it. That’s not me admitting defeat, that is just me being matter of fact. It’s me facing reality.

But I also cannot continue operating in a system like this. I cannot continue willingly placing myself in a situation where I might have to choose between staying alive for my own babies, or risking my life for someone else’s children.

And I can’t continue lying to children about their safety. Not when they trust me so much.

I can’t.

I am not a teacher anymore.

 

 

 

Coming to a place where I am comfortable with changing careers and leaving a career I truly loved required a lot of reflection and introspection. Click below to receive a copy of my 28-day reflective journal so you can practice self-care through reflection.

Inspirational Dream Journal

How to Decorate a Twin Nursery on a Budget

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Twin Nursery

Decorating a nursery is so exciting!

I know that having a perfectly decorated nursery is not a necessity, but preparing for a new baby is such a joyous time that the combination of excitement and pregnancy hormones makes it seem like it is. Decorating a nursery for our twin boys was so much fun! We wanted something that wasn’t “cookie-cutter.” We both love the “vintage” feel, and we definitely wanted two coordinating themes so that each kiddo had his own space defined. We are more than pleased with how our twin boy nursery turned out.

Is there anyone who has watched Chip and Joanna Gaines and not immediately fallen in love? I think it’s impossible. I tried to avoid watching their show, I tried to avoid jumping on the Chip and Jo Bandwagon…but I failed… and I am obsessed (does that really count as a failure? I think having the Gaines as part of your life is always a win.) I was still avoiding Chip and Joanna when we were decorating our nursery, but lucky for me, I have my own personal decorator who is every bit as wonderful as Joanna Gaines–my wife!

Steph is truly fantastic at making any space feel cozy and inviting–whether it is a one-bedroom apartment, a house, or a classroom.

I am not a decorator. I have never been a decorator. When my parents bought their house when I was eight, I chose a paint color for my room (pink) and it didn’t change until I moved out for college. When I met Steph, she came to my apartment for the first time and I had zero decorations. I was renting a duplex that had hunter green carpet, a coordinating green linoleum in the kitchen and bathroom, and green counters. In addition to that, I had a giant red couch, and I wasn’t going to buy a new couch to match a home I was renting, especially considering I wasn’t even sure how long I would be there. I had no idea how to decorate around a shade of green I didn’t like and a bright red couch, so I didn’t. I didn’t even have curtains.


Here’s how we managed to create a twin nursery we love on a budget.

1. Don’t Rush

Needless to say, when we moved in together, Steph did the decorating. So when we found out we were expecting we made a deal–I would grow the babies if she would make the nursery. 9 months later, and I still think it’s absolutely perfect. 

I am not usually superstitious very superstitious, but most of the time I am not very adamant about sticking to my superstitions. Decorating the nursery was a time I put my foot down. I had heard an old wives tale about it being bad luck to decorate the nursery before 20 weeks, so I wouldn’t let Steph do anything. It drove her crazy.

Honestly, I was just trying to protect myself and her. If something had happened to one or both of the babies and we had to undo a nursery, it would have done us in. In the meantime, Steph sketched out all of her plans, so when it was time to start shopping and decorating, she knew exactly what she was looking for and what she wanted to do.

2. Choose a Theme for the Nursery

One of the first steps in making a space for your little one should be to choose a theme or color scheme. We wanted two themes so we could have a specific theme for each baby. Since we had two boys, we chose airplanes and hot air balloons. If we’d had a girl and a boy or two girls we probably would have done hot air balloons and kites. Everything is an object that flies. But we had two boys–baby A would have his side of the room decorated with airplanes and baby B would have his side decorated with hot air balloons.

There are so many cute things to choose from, and people are not afraid to offer their input on how they think it should look. Babies are exciting for a lot of people and it’s fun to talk to others and dream about it. However make sure that whatever you choose is true to you, fits the personality of your family, and is something that you genuinely love.

3. Choose the Space That Will Work Best for Your Nursery

When we moved into our house, we set up the master bedroom (room with the largest closet) for us. The second largest room was a guest room, and the smallest room as an office with the intention of turning it into a nursery someday. Then two sweet babies appeared on the ultrasound and we knew there was no way they could share that room. So we did some major rearranging.

We moved the office downstairs to the extra room in the basement, moved the guest room to the small room, turned the guest room into the master bedroom, and turned the master into the nursery. And when I say “we,” I mean Steph. I was pregnant, so I was very little help.

Don’t be afraid of re-purposing spaces. Could we have stayed in the master bedroom and moved the babies in the guest room? Yes. But we didn’t want to repaint and that room is pink while the master is a soft green. Also, we needed the closet to store the baby supplies we were gifted until the boys were older. 

4. Find Ways to Save Money on Nursery Decorations

We are frugal people anyway, but with TWO babies on the way, we had to be extra frugal. One kid is expensive enough.

One way we saved money was by letting go of the Type A tendency for everything to match and be brand new. Our whole house has a kind of comfortable, eclectic/primitive mis-matchy vibe. We had already painted the room a nice, soft green. It was gender neutral and baby appropriate. All we had to do was a few touch ups.  Instead of spending hundreds of dollars on all matching, brand new furniture, we pieced together coordinating furniture from a few different places. One crib came from Facebook Marketplace. We bought all the other furniture from an auction. The wagon we use to hold books our neighbors took out of their flower garden and handed to us. We furnished the entire room (2 cribs, 2 rocking chairs, a bookshelf, and a changing table) for less than the cost of one crib.

We bought vintage suitcases for cheap at a thrift store. Besides super cute decor, we have re-purposed them as props in a photo session and storage for toys. 

Re-purposing furniture for the nursery is a great idea, too.

Have a nice desk or dresser that is going unused? Put a changing pad on top of it and you have a super cute changing table. Baby furniture is a niche market that is designed to look cute and make money. You can still have an adorable nursery using items you already own–as long as it is safe for the baby.

There are some things that should be bought new, though. The big one for me was crib mattresses. I didn’t mind buying a used crib, but the mattress needed to be new. Luckily, we found them for a great price at Target.

4. DIY What You Can for the Nursery (Or Ask Friends To Help)

Another way we saved money was by using a lot of DIY.

We decoupaged wooden cut-outs together (which was a super fun date night) using the same scrapbook paper I am using in their baby books.

We put together a shadow box of vintage baby clothes. A local antique store had the vintage baby clothes for very cheap, and the shoes were my mom’s when she was a baby, which makes it even more special.

One of my amazing, wonderful co-workers cross-stitched the quilt that hangs on the wall. Another incredible coworker used an old quilt I had to make custom crib bumpers.

We bought the Bessie Pease Gutmann prints for cheap from a little Mom and Pop place in town and matted and framed them ourselves.

We also painted the letters that spell their names over their cribs.

5. Shop Smart

Finally, we shopped for the best deals. We wanted giant clothespins on their collages above their cribs, which we found at Hobby Lobby for 60% off. Our original plan was to repaint them, but once we got them in the room we liked they way they looked so we left them alone. The picture frames are from the Dollar Tree. We snapped the photos ourselves (the day the boys came home from the NICU, but that’s a different story entirely).

6. Splurge Sparingly   

Finally, we splurged on a few items. Our idea of splurging is very different from others’. Even a “splurge” was fairly inexpensive. Steph found these incredible string art pictures on Etsy, as well as the dictionary prints. The dictionary page prints were a fun addition; Steph and I are both English teachers, we had a literary themed wedding, and ALL our boys (human and doggo) have literary names.

We bought the hot air balloon and metal planes hanging from the shelf above the changing table on Amazon. After we decorated the shelf with a few thrift store finds, we were done.

I love the way the room turned out. It’s adorable, unique, functional, and–best of all–thrifty!

What are your best thrifty nursery decorating tips? Share in the comments! Want more decorating ideas from The Same Sunset team? Sign up for our email list so you never miss out!

I asked a friend for advice on simplifying my home and what she said was the best advice I could have received. “For me personally, it didn’t start with the ‘stuff’ in my home. It began with a decluttering of the stuff in my heart, mind and soul.” She is so right! So I am offering–for free!!!–a 28 Day Follow Your Dreams Inspirational Journal, where you can work on letting go of some of the clutter in YOUR mind, body, and soul and work toward a fresh, confident future!

6 Ways to Overcome Self Doubt and Follow Your Dreams

I once heard someone say something like “If you ever notice your preacher discussing the same topic often, it’s most likely because he/she struggles with that topic.” I’m certainly not a preacher, but the concept applies to me today.

Self doubt is definitely my greatest hurdle. As I mentioned in my “About Me”, I have always wanted to start a blog. I even made a feeble attempt once before. I had no idea what I was doing (still don’t) and was way too intimidated to actually share the URL with anyone (that still scares me). BUT ten years after that disastrous attempt…I am trying again. Self doubt is coursing hard through my veins. I don’t know if it ever really goes away altogether, but I have learned how to push it aside, set goals, and make an effort to overcome it! These are the six things I recommend doing when self-doubt tries to take over.

1) Forget about what everyone else thinks of you.

I started with the hardest one first. I say all the time that I don’t care what people think about me–and I mean it. There is no way I would have survived 8 years as a teacher if I worried about popularity.

But what I mean when I say that I don’t care what people think about me is that I don’t care if people like me or not, but I do care about how people perceive  me. It’s okay for people to disagree with me, but for someone to judge me or weigh my worth makes me a big ball of nerves.

The intersection at the end of our street is busy, and I often have to make a left turn. I stress out when someone pulls into the turn lane behind me. I squirm in my seat, my palms sweat, my heart races. What if I could have gone then? My brain says. What if they are getting frustrated because I am taking too long? Being perceived as a competent driver by these strangers suddenly becomes more important to me than driving safely.

I had to delete TimeHop from my phone because I was so embarrassed by the stupid things I posted on Facebook ten years ago. I was an embarrassingly pretentious teenager. And when I think about that, my mind starts racing. What if I am still obnoxiously pretentious and I just don’t realize it? What if no one tells me? Worse, what if someone DOES tell me? What if I accidentally embarrass someone else with something I write? What if I misrepresent myself to the entire world?  I just shouldn’t do it.

See how easily it gets out if hand? I allow my concern for how others think of me cripple my ambition. And here’s a truth: others are a lot less concerned with you than you think. When I let the opinions of others go, I am able to work toward my goals. It’s easier said than done, I know, but it is possible. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be reading this now.

2) Give others the benefit of the doubt.

This goes hand-in-hand with number 1, but when someone does give you positive feedback, believe it. When someone offers constructive criticism, accept it graciously and use it for growth, but don’t stew on it.

When I first met my wife, I assumed she had ulterior motives in everything she did. After all, that’s what many of my previous friendships and relationships had been like. I had built this huge wall around me and I was trying to keep everyone else out. Otherwise I was nothing more than someone who could be used.

One day she finally said to me, “Unless I give you evidence otherwise, assume I want what is best for you.” I remember the moment clearly. We were in her car and were on the brink of an argument because I had to do something for work, and I was stressed out and refusing help because why would she help me? How was helping me going to benefit her? It seemed completely counter-intuitive to just believe that she wanted what was best for me, but in rearranging my mindset to believe it, I have learned that she truly does want what is best for me. All the time.

And in learning to trust that my wife has good intentions, I have learned to give the benefit of doubt to others.

When strangers or acquaintances try to talk to me now, I don’t get shy am still super shy, but I make more of an effort to hold conversations. I assume they are genuinely being friendly and not targeting me. I’ve made more friends as a result. I’ve made quality friends as a result. In a few weeks, I am officially leaving the “real” work force to be a stay-at-home/work-from-home mom. I am over-the-moon excited, but I am also very sad that I will not be seeing my friends every day. I have grown close to some incredible people.

Sometimes I am still not so great at this.

We only have our yard mowed every other week because 1) I’m not going to mow it and 2) we can only afford every other week. A man stopped outside our house the other day and rang our doorbell (he better be glad the babies weren’t sleeping!) to give us his business card for his lawn mowing service. My replies were something like, “So my yard looks bad? Your yard looks bad. Your MOM’s yard looks bad!” (Don’t worry. I was talking to the babysitter. The wifey answered the door).

There’s no way I would have ever found a way to actually attempt this blog thing if I still allowed myself to be paranoid about other people. To me, this is a lot of vulnerability and opening myself to a lot of judgement. Rearranging my mind to believe the best in others–and myself–made it possible.

3) Surround yourself with positive people.

Repeat after me, it is okay to be choosy about who you let in your inner circle.

My friend Kelly explained life to me like this: Imagine your life is a production, but YOU get to decide who attends the show. When someone buys a ticket to a show, the people in the front usually have more interaction and are more involved–they’re closer so they can see better and hear more. So, your life is a production. Not everyone gets a ticket. You’re in charge of who does and who doesn’t, and you decide where those guests sit. YOU decide who is in your front row and involved in your life, and you decide who observes from the back, and you decide who isn’t invited at all

It is okay to cut toxic people from your life. It is okay to cut people who are not necessarily toxic, but expect more from you than they are willing to give back to you, or who expect you to give more of yourself than is healthy for you. Your mental, emotional, and physical health are important and it is okay to value your health. And allowing self-doubt is not good for your emotional health or mental health. Anyone who is holding you back from believing in yourself needs to be moved to the nosebleed section or escorted out. (And did you notice I did not specify that you could/should only cut friends? Sometimes family can be the most toxic people. You are not a bad person if you limit them, too.)

Most productions are not a one show deal.

They sell tickets multiple times. You might have to show someone out for a while, but that doesn’t mean they can never get a seat again.

Surround yourself with positive people and a quality cheering section. When you’re feeling down, when self-doubt is sneaking in, call them and let them become your inner voice. My front row makes me feel like I can take on the world.

4) Don’t be afraid to be yourself.

You might not know this yet, but I am funny. Like, super funny. But I am also socially awkward and often lost in my own head and a little uncouth so sometimes people don’t understand that I am funny. Give it time. You’ll warm up to my humor.

I read others’ blogs and think Man, I wish I was funny like her/him! But if I was, I wouldn’t be me. I need to find and use my voice, and it’s okay if others don’t like who I am. (See number 1 above) 

5) Find some inspiration.

Find a quote, Bible verse, or mantra that you can repeat to yourself to motivate you to keep going. My personal favorite quote is one my middle school choir teacher made us all memorize:

“We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit.” -Aristotle

I’m not going to be an awesome mom or kick-ass wife or successful blogger if I allow myself to drown in self-doubt. Excellence is a habit. If I am going to succeed I have to strive for excellence until it comes naturally.

You can get ideas for a personal mantra in many places. Google inspirational quotes, do a Pinterest search, or, if you’re religious, look for Bible verses that encourage you.

Don’t overthink this and don’t overlook it.

Words are powerful. Albus Dumbledore says that words are “our most inexhaustible source of magic. Capable of both inflicting injury, and remedying it.” Find words that remedy your self-doubt and cling to them.

6) To quote Nike, “Just Do It.”

Whatever it is you want to accomplish–just go for it. If you never try, you’ll never know. 

I have no idea right now if I will be a successful blogger, but it’s worth a shot, so I’m going to do it.

What are YOUR tried and true methods for battling self-doubt? Share them in the comments!

Knowing and following your dreams is not for the faint of heart. It is hard to honestly evaluate yourself and assess your possibilities Click below receive a download for this FREE 28 Day Inspirational Journal. Use it to take a few minutes each day to focus on YOU. Read the inspirational quote and the daily prompt to reflect on who you are and where you are headed.

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