I’ve been thinking a lot about trust lately.

Not the kind we talk about in PD sessions or leadership books.

The trust educators once had in themselves.

Because what I see, over and over, is not educators who don’t care, don’t know, or don’t want better.

I see educators who stopped trusting themselves in order to survive.

And that matters.

How self-trust gets eroded (slowly, quietly)

Most educators don’t lose self-trust in some dramatic breaking moment.

It happens gradually.

You know what would bring balance to the classroom - but it’s not allowed.
You know what the children need - but it doesn’t fit the structure.
You know slowing down would help - but there’s no room for it.

So you adapt.

You do what you’re told.
You follow the plan.
You keep the status quo because rocking the boat feels like more than your nervous system can handle right now.

And honestly? That makes sense.

When you’re already holding students, families, expectations, behaviour plans, curriculum demands, and systems that rarely see you… survival becomes the priority.

But over time, something shifts.

You stop checking in with yourself.
You stop listening for your inner yes or no.
You stop trusting what you feel and know.

Not because it’s gone;
but because you’ve practiced shutting it down for so long.

What happens when educators stop trusting themselves

When self-trust fades, the work gets heavier.

Not always visibly, but internally.

Decisions feel harder.
Joy feels further away.
Connection with children takes more effort.

And here’s the part we don’t talk about enough:

Children feel it.

They don’t need perfect educators.
They need regulated, grounded ones.

Children find safety when the adults around them trust themselves and when our presence is steady, confident, and responsive rather than braced and restricted.

Self-trust goes beyond the personal and it creates a foundation for safe, grounded relationships.

January is an important reset

As we re-enter the school year after a break, even a short one, there’s a small opening.

January doesn’t need big goals or dramatic changes.

It’s a chance to gently rebuild trust. Not by fixing yourself, but by keeping one small promise to yourself.

Self-trust grows through consistency, not intensity.

Here are a few ways I’ve seen educators begin again.

Three gentle ways to practice trusting yourself again

1. One shared reflection a day
Choose a partner: a colleague, friend, or loved one.

Every day in January, share one positive reflection from your day.
No venting. No problem-solving. No negativity.

Just one moment that reminded you why you care.

This practice retrains your attention and reminds your nervous system that goodness still exists inside the work.

2. A visible joy record
Each day, write down one joyful or meaningful moment.

Tape it up.
Pin it near your desk.
Leave it somewhere you’ll see it often.

Trust grows when your lived experience is witnessed… especially by you.

3. Ten breaths outside
Before a transition (arriving, leaving, heading into the building) step outside.

Ten slow breaths.
Fresh air.
No phone.

This isn’t mindfulness as another task.
It’s regulation as a relationship.

You’re telling your body: I listen when you ask for space.

Why this actually works

Every small promise you keep builds credibility with yourself.

Not with your admin.
Not with the system.

With you.

Each day you follow through, your body learns:

I can trust myself.
I respond when something matters.
I don’t abandon myself completely.

That’s where trust begins.

And when trust returns, so does clarity.
So does creativity.
So does joy.

If you want to feel excited about work again

Start here.

Not with a new program.
Not with another strategy.
Not with pushing harder.

Come back to yourself.

Your wisdom didn’t disappear.
It’s been waiting for conditions that feel safe enough to speak again.

This is the work I care about at Together With Nature, inside Mentoring Beyond the System, and my own practice every day.

Not fixing educators.
Witnessing them.

Because when educators are truly seen,
They remember who they are.

If this resonated, you don’t have to hold it alone.

Inside Mentoring Beyond the System, I offer a private membership space for educators who are still showing up and are tired of doing it without being seen. It’s a place to speak honestly, rebuild self-trust, and be witnessed.

You’re welcome to learn more or join us when it feels right.

Sarah