Today I woke up at dawn shivering.
I dreamt there was a very strong earthquake. As I ran outside tightly hugging my daughters, parts of the ground beside us suddenly rose, and our car rolled away, crashing into a broken wall. The earth shook violently beneath our feet. We cowered down, praying, my children screaming.
Then I woke up.
Two days ago, I submitted my resignation from the academe.
That initial wave of relief I felt has now slowly turned into dread. I have always been a teacher. I invested my time, my heart, and my soul into teaching. And while I felt so alive and at home with my students, I also felt myself slowly drowning inside an institution where I no longer felt aligned, understood, or at peace.
I had to make a choice.
Today, I felt FOMO. And it crept into me through a dream of earthquakes. I am being shaken and stirred.
But I know this much:
Institutions will forget. I will always be replaceable. My light will burn out someday.
But the students I taught will remember.
My children will remember.
My body and mind will remember that I chose to protect them.
And I know that what is meant for me will find me again.
Today, I have FOMO.
I will not resist it. I will sit with it for now.
Tomorrow, JOMO will come.
And I will still be there. Not a different person. Not a burnt ember of the woman I once was. Still me.
Because today, I chose to protect me.
