19 Years in Schools vs 6 Years Online: My Honest Experience

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19 years as a school teacher and 6 years teaching online.

I don’t really know when that much time passed. I just know it did.

I’m writing this not to convince anyone of anything, but to organize an experience that has shaped me completely as a teacher and as a person. Maybe it will help someone facing a similar decision. Or maybe it will simply show that almost nothing in this profession is black or white.

And still, one of the two lives is one I would not choose again.

Even though it hurts to say that.

The best years of my life as a teacher were in school.

Nothing really compares to that.

Watching a child who couldn’t read begin to read.
Seeing a family get emotional in a meeting because “they’re finally making progress.”
Feeling that you are part of something bigger than a classroom.

In school, something very human happens: the relationship is not only academic, but it’s emotional. You become a stable figure in many children’s lives. And that leaves a mark.

But there is another side that is rarely said out loud.

The hardest years were also in school.

Constant stress.
The feeling of never catching up.
Students you cannot fully help, even when you try everything — and you take that home with you.
Parents who don’t see what you see, or don’t want to see it.
Misunderstandings. Unrealistic expectations.
And that silent feeling that no matter what you do, it is never enough for everyone.

Some days you give everything… and it still isn’t enough.

And over time, that weighs on you.

I’ve lived deeply beautiful moments with students and families, moments that remind you why you chose this profession.

But also moments where you feel questioned, undervalued, or misunderstood.

And in the middle of it all are the children.

The ones who grow with you and fill you with pride.
The ones who don’t make progress, even when you try everything.
The ones who stay in your mind as unanswered questions: “What if I had done something differently?”

That is the part that leaves the deepest mark.

It is not physical exhaustion. It is emotional exhaustion.

School is also this: spending more hours with colleagues than with your own family.

I’ve had laughter I still remember. Real support. People who held me together when I was at my limit.

And also tension. Distance. Misunderstandings that come from stress.

But if I look back honestly, I was mostly lucky.

Even with people I didn’t initially understand, over time I learned to see them differently. More human. More real.

And something important: everyone left something in me.

Even without knowing it, they taught me how to teach.

School life is exactly this:

Constant ups and downs.
Pride and exhaustion in the same week.
Joy and frustration in the same day.

It is a place where you love what you do… and at the same time wonder how much longer you can keep going like this.

And still, it is hard to leave.

Because if you were born to teach, school feels like home.

It was not a clean decision.

Life circumstances: moving countries, the COVID-19 pandemic, everything shifting at once.

And that’s how I ended up teaching online.

Without knowing if I would fit in.

Without knowing if I could make it work.

Without knowing if I could truly connect with a student through a screen.

I remember my very first online lesson clearly.

A Russian girl. An academy had contacted me through LinkedIn. Everything seemed straightforward.

But before starting, my mind was loud:


“What if it doesn’t work?”
“What if the internet fails?”
“What if I can’t connect with the student?”
“What if this is not for me?”

The class ended.

I thought: it went fine.

Two hours later, I received a message.

The student had decided to switch teachers.

And something shifted internally.

It wasn’t just a lost class. It was a doubt about my entire career.

In that moment, I thought: maybe this isn’t for me.

And I learned something important: the mind tries to judge the future based on a single moment.

But life doesn’t work that way.

Six years later, I see things I didn’t expect to see.

Strong relationships are built with students. Different, but real. More direct. More consistent.

Parents tend to value visible progress more clearly. You can see results one by one.

There is less bureaucracy, less protocol. But there is something just as important: clarity of goals and personal discipline.

And something that doesn’t change:

Preparation.

Every lesson still requires a lot of work behind the scenes. In my case, highly individualized planning.

The workload doesn’t disappear. It just changes shape.

My anxiety levels dropped significantly.

The constant pressure of school life, meetings, expectations, noise… all of that disappeared.

I have more control over my time.

And something I didn’t expect: more inner calm.

Financial stability is not always consistent.

Some months are very good, others less so.

And yes, it requires strategy, adaptation, and discipline.

It is not automatic.

And it is not perfect either.

There is no better system.

There are different systems.

School gave me a deep human connection.
Online teaching gave me balance and mental health.

And both versions of me are real.

But only one allows me to keep teaching without slowly breaking down.

I’m not writing this to say “school is bad” or “online is better.”

That would be false.

I’m writing this because professional life is not always a logical choice.

Sometimes it is about how you want to live your daily life.

And in my case, even though school was where I loved teaching the most, it was also where I lost myself the most.

I still teach.

I am still a teacher.

Just in a different way.

And for the first time in a long time, with a sense of balance I didn’t have before.

It is not perfect.

But it is sustainable.

If you’re a teacher navigating the same reality I’ve described in this post, I’ve also created a space where I share classroom resources designed from real experience, not theory. It’s called Class Plus, and it’s built to support teachers who want practical, ready-to-use materials that actually work in real classrooms. You can explore it here and see how it connects directly with the kind of teaching challenges I talk about in this blog, because everything I create comes from lived experience, not just ideas on paper.

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