The Quiet Power of a Snow Day: Rediscovering the "Me" Outside the IEP

I’m just going to say it: The silence was delicious.

For two whole days, my world went white, and for the first time in a long time, the soundtrack of my life changed. Usually, my days are a chaotic symphony of school bells, back-to-back Zoom meetings, and navigating the… let’s call it passionate energy of parents who sometimes forget that I’m a person, not a doormat for their frustrations.

But this week? The bells were silent. The screen stayed dark. And I finally had the space to simply exist.

More Than a Job Title

As a school psychologist, it’s so easy to let the job swallow your identity whole. You become a walking, talking cognitive assessment. But these snow days acted like a mirror, reminding me of the parts of myself I’d tucked away in a desk drawer.

I looked at my reflection and remembered: I am an author. I am a dancer. I am a creative soul.

I realized that while I thrive on making people happy and helping others, I’ve been doing it in a way that leaves me depleted. There’s a profound irony in spending your career advocating for children’s well-being while letting your own creative fire dim to a flicker.

The Quest for Rediscovery

These past 48 hours felt less like a "vacation" and more like a quest. I felt that old, familiar spark—the one I had as a college senior, standing on the edge of the world, wondering “What’s next?” I started exploring how to make myself visible again, not just as the person who handles the paperwork, but for the qualities that actually make me me. I began looking for new spaces where I can be a thriving, creative school psychologist whose skills reach way beyond the scope of a standard evaluation.

Carving a New Lane

The snow is melting, and the "real world" is calling, but I’m not heading back the same way I left. The work isn't over, and the journey is just getting started. I’m officially in the business of carving out a new lane for myself—one where my creativity and my career don't just coexist, but actually dance together.

The snow days did exactly what they were supposed to do. They gave me back to myself. And for that? I am so incredibly thankful.