From Classroom to Bookshelf: How Teaching Quietly Prepared Me to Become an Author

If you had told me years ago that I would move from the classroom to the world of publishing, I probably would have smiled politely… and changed the subject. Writing felt like something other people did; people with confidence, people who believed their voices mattered.

I wasn’t one of them.

Or at least, that’s what I thought.

But here’s the truth I only understand now: every year I spent teaching was quietly preparing me for the work I do today as an author.

Teaching is listening.

Teaching is guiding.

Teaching is, in essence, storytelling, whether we realize it or not.

I learned to pay attention to the small things that students didn’t always say out loud.

I learned that everyone carries a story, even when they don’t have the words yet.

I learned that the right question can unlock understanding, safety, and trust.

Those same skills now shape every page I write, especially on topics as personal and meaningful as adoption.

Leaving the classroom was not a smooth or glamorous reinvention. There were moments of doubt, moments where imposter syndrome sat a little too close, and moments when my self-esteem whispered, "Who do you think you are to write (children's) books?"

But passion has a strange way of outgrowing fear.

One sentence became a page.

One idea turned into a manuscript.

One manuscript became several books, each one rooted in the belief that stories can change conversations, especially for children and families navigating adoption.

Moving from teacher to author didn’t happen overnight.

It happened quietly, slowly, consistently, the same way confidence builds and missions take shape.

Today, my work looks different, but the heart of it hasn’t changed.

I’m still here to guide, to listen, and to tell stories that help others feel seen.

From classroom to bookshelf…It turns out the path wasn’t a change at all. It was a continuation.

And if you’re standing at the edge of reinvention, wondering if you’re “allowed” to try something new,  let me offer the reminder I once needed:

You don’t have to feel ready to begin. You just have to begin.