As I sit here in my cozy dining room, finding every excuse not to study for my upcoming licensure exam, a familiar wave of imposter syndrome settles in. I am blessed beyond measure to have fifteen little munchkins who look up to me with trust and excitement, yet I still find myself whispering, why me? Am I good enough? Am I worthy? Do their parents truly trust me with the most precious pieces of their hearts, or do they drop them off each morning simply because it is what society expects?
If I am being honest, even after ten years of school, I am still not fully certified to teach general education. I hold a valid license, but only as an Intervention Specialist. That single technical detail often makes me question whether I truly belong in the classroom or if I somehow slipped through unnoticed. It is funny how one missing piece can overshadow everything you have already built.
How I Got Here and Why I Stayed
Let me back up and explain that last paragraph a little more: I am a certified teacher through the State of Ohio, but my credential lies in special education rather than general education. Now I know what most people are asking themselves: How did she become an Intervention Specialist without first earning a general education degree?
Many years ago in graduate school, my path looked very different. My Bachelors degree was in psychology, and I had every intention of going to grad school for clinical psychology and becoming a child psychologist. Mental health was, and still is, deeply rooted in my heart as part of who I am (more about this in a future blog). But when my GRE scores fell short of clinical program requirements, the future I envisioned seemed to crumble overnight.
I prayed. I sought wise counsel. I sat with God, frustrated and uncertain, asking why He would give me a passion so strong only to close the door in front of me. Then one summer, thanks to the encouragement of a few good friends who were educators, I enrolled in a few special education courses, not out of certainty, but out of curiosity. I wanted to know if there was something beyond my plan, something God had kept hidden until the right moment.
And there was.
The work pulled me in. The children captured me. Through my field observations and student teaching, I became so drawn to these little humans who looked up to me. Their minds required patience, compassion, gentleness, belief. They needed someone to see what others missed. They needed someone to stand beside them rather than ahead of them. And suddenly I knew. This was not a detour. This was direction. I applied to the program, took the entrance exam, and was accepted immediately.
It was never Plan B.
It was God’s plan all along.
Growing up, I learned early what it meant to struggle. As a child I was diagnosed with ADHD, and school often felt like trying to catch thoughts that moved faster than my hands. My mind sprinted when the world walked. Homework took longer. Instructions slipped away. Sitting still felt impossible. I watched classmates move ahead with ease while I felt like I was trying to run through water. Instead of trying to understand me, my teachers just called me a “bad kid” or a “trouble maker” and allowed me to slip through the cracks.
Everything began to shift when I reached fourth grade. My teacher saw something in me that others had missed. She did not see a troublemaker or a kid who could not sit still. She saw a little girl who simply needed to learn differently. She looked past my behavior and saw my heart, my potential, and the person I could become. She was the first to show me that struggling did not make me broken. It made me worth investing in.
Back then my learning challenges felt like a burden, but now I see God’s fingerprints all over it. He used those challenges to shape my heart for the children who learn outside the box. He taught me patience through personal battle. He grew empathy from places of frustration. ADHD never disqualified me. God transformed it into my ministry, making me determined to become for my students the teacher I once so desperately needed.
Becoming an educator was not an easy road. My journey has been paved with doubt, exhaustion, and moments where I questioned whether I had anything to offer. There were nights I cried more than I celebrated. Days when I wondered if I was chasing something I would never fully reach. And yes, there were people who did not see a teacher when they looked at me. They saw limitation instead of potential. In some seasons, I let their voices drown out the voice of God.
But I did not stop. Even when I wanted to walk away. Even when doubt grew louder than confidence. Even when I felt unseen. I kept going because God would not let my calling go.
This past September, I reached a milestone I once believed might never be mine. I earned my 5-year professional Intervention Specialist license. Not just a credential on paper, but a testimony. Proof that perseverance bears fruit. Proof that God provides strength when mine runs dry. Proof that He equips those He calls.
Now I stand before another mountain. My exam is on December 19, which, Lord willing, if I pass, will qualify me to apply for my PK through 5th grade general education license. It feels enormous. It feels intimidating. It feels like the final piece I have been praying over for years. And through the grace of God, it is finally within reach.
Doubt still whispers, but my God speaks louder. I know what I can do through Him. I know the mountains I have already climbed because He steadied my feet. The girl who once wondered if she was enough is becoming the woman who walks boldly in purpose because her God says she is.
I step into this next chapter with trembling hands, a hopeful heart, and faith that God is not finished. My story is still being written, and I trust the Author with every word.
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