Keeping the September nerves at bay

Unschooling, home-educating, self-directed learning—whatever our own version of this looks like, September is an odd month in the not-at-school parent’s calendar. If you’ve been living without school for some time then you’re probably looking forward to your favourite haunts emptying of holiday visitors. Parks, beaches, museums, cafes, city centres—as the crowds disperse and the rhythm of life returns to normal, there’s a lovely sense of spaciousness. Along with this restored calm may be the anticipation of new things in the calendar, and your children might be looking forward to activities starting up again. Perhaps there’s also some sadness as the days get shorter, and friends who go to school are no longer around for daytime fun. But if you’re an old hand at this then the change in season most likely doesn’t feel too overwhelming.

If, on the other hand, this is your first September out of traditional school, or it still feels like early days, it may be a bit more of an emotional rollercoaster. I remember our first two years without school, living in Spain. The school holidays were three months long, and since not going to school was almost unheard of there, this meant that for three glorious months we could feel just as normal as everyone else. Come September, and I felt a huge pressure to step up my game, to make sure our children weren’t missing out, and to defend our choice. I found the quietness isolating and it triggered a lot of worry about whether we were doing the right thing, and a kind of crazy zest to be busy all the time. This was all made more complicated by the fact that there were no other families in the same boat to hang out with or activities to join.

That very first year, I also made an important discovery: how other people were living and what they might think of us (not that they actually were thinking about us), only mattered if I allowed it to matter. When my mind was filled with expectations of how things “should” look, or when I imagined how others might judge us, I became a ball of nervous tension—doubting everything and setting impossibly high expectations for all of us. If the children were happy and engaged in something that would seem “worthy” to the outside world, I’d breathe a sigh of relief. But if there was an argument, or if everyone was lounging around in pyjamas, I’d fret and worry that this wasn’t how things were supposed to be. I’d not only feel worried but I’d try to cajole everyone into action. They’d sense my stress and, more often than not, resist my coercion, resulting in me feeling even worse. Exhausting stuff!

Then, I came across something that shifted my perspective. Although I can’t recall the exact quote, the gist was: if there were just you and your children—and no one else in the world to see you—would you be happy with what you were doing? I realised that, yes, when I stopped worrying about whether it all looked right, we were generally doing quite well. On the days when they played Minecraft for hours, they were deeply engaged, exploring new ideas, and excited about what they could create and learn. When we spent time doing nothing in particular except enjoying each other’s company, it felt cosy and connecting. If I was able to relax into those days I’d be more inspired to make us all a hot chocolate and sink in even further than try to get everyone to do something else. And I would notice that those days just naturally unfolded, often leading to conversations, games and outings I would never have thought of. By changing my perspective and leaning into what we were actually doing, everything felt freer and lighter. The lens through which I viewed our days changed the way the days flowed.

Realising we were far better off when I quietened my judging mind was a turning point, but to actually quieten it wasn’t always easy. I was already practising meditation but I hadn’t quite put all the pieces together, so I wasn’t really leaning into that as a tool in my own deschooling. Sometimes I would be able to catch my thoughts before they headed down the rabbit warren of “is this enough?” thinking, hastily changing the lens before it ruined the morning, but it was a bit hit and miss. So whilst I exercised the muscle of shifting the lens, I also found a less-nuanced strategy that, on particularly challenging days, helped me get away from all the head noise. It isn’t one I would necessarily teach now, but if you’re struggling to get beyond those critical voices, you could definitely give it a go.

My strategy was to set an intention for the day (or even just the morning or afternoon) to not give a damn about anything except how we were. On those days, whenever an intrusive “should” threatened to project itself onto my children, I’d summon up my inner rebel and tell the world to get lost because we were doing as we pleased today. A little defiance goes a long way because sure enough, these days were far more enjoyable and carefree than the ones where I let the world and all its “shoulds” in. My children, of course, had no clue that my lighter mood was an act of defiance.

Over time, I stopped needing to feel like I was rebelling against anything (and it only ever really was a rebellion against my own thoughts). I learned to trust my children and stopped needing to be taking constant score of how we were doing. I learned that there is nothing harder or more valuable than knowing when to just relax, and that time itself brings ease and knowledge.

We’re many years along now and this September holds the promise of both a return to the familiar and anticipation of the new. One of my children is about to start at a sixth form college, one is continuing with a course they’ve been on for a year, and the other is just carrying on with their normal life (which looks remarkably the same whether it’s holiday season or not). 

So this September, if you feel yourself straining under expectations, real or imagined, take a deep breath and see if you can shift that lens. Pick up an inspiring book, listen to a podcast, call a supportive friend, or simply offer yourself a hug and some kind words. Then give yourself permission to relax into the day and just observe how things naturally shift. And if you need something a bit stronger to keep those September nerves at bay, get rebellious and tell the world you’re doing it your way today.