I taught preschool for 2 years and absolutely loved it. But I couldn't support myself financially.

• I taught preschool for two years and loved it.
• But at the same time, I couldn't support myself financially.
• I applied for an office job and was reminded of how to interact with other adults.

I taught preschool for two years. Frankly, it was delightful. It was fulfilling, meaningful work that left me feeling full-hearted at the end of every day.

The problem was I couldn't support myself and my son on that salary as a newly single mom. Instead, I dove into the corporate world head-first, but it wasn't without sacrifices.

The job search process was time-consuming

First came the job application process. I spent hours each day sending résumés to whoever might take me, desperate to step into the breadwinner role now that I was on my own.

After three months of crafting bespoke cover letters for every employer I sent an application to, I finally found it: an entry-level marketing role at an online health publisher that had my name all over it.

That's when the culture shock really set in.

As a preschool teacher and the mother of a toddler, I had hardly touched my laptop for the last two years. My son and I had a set routine of attending school together every day: his place of learning and my place of work.

I was home in time to make dinner every night, and our weekends were filled with parks and playgrounds. We were a part of a small, tight-knit community of teachers, administrators, and a few involved parents. It was cozy, comfy, and sweet as can be.

I wondered whether it was worth it

Now, I was suddenly thrust into the fast-paced, competitive environment of San Francisco's startup world — and my head was spinning.

My son was the first kid at day care and the last to come home owing to my new 3-hour roundtrip commute. Before, he got to attend the school I taught at for free. Now, half of my paycheck went to childcare.

I started to question whether it had all been worth it, whether I had given up something precious and rare just to make money — like so many others — and still barely make ends meet. But I told myself to stick it out, trusting that even if I couldn't see where my new career would take us, we'd land where we needed to be.

Once I started adjusting to my new role, there were plenty of perks to enjoy.

There were perks

For the first time in my life, I had quality benefits (full medical, vision, dental, and a 401k), and it was refreshing to be in an office with people my age. It was the first time I had meaningfully interacted with adults outside a kid-focused setting in years. I had sort of forgotten what grown-up me was like. Frankly, I probably came on really strong.

I felt like a fish out of water as a 20-something kid-at-heart hippie in a corporate setting wearing blazers and flats for the first time in my life, but it was exhilarating to try on a new and dynamic persona and see how it all played out.

At the same time, I genuinely missed my role as a teacher and all that after-school time with my son.

Sure, we had cold brew on tap and office-sponsored happy hours every Thursday. I got to lead the Celebrations Committee and organize extravagant parties for special events and birthdays on the company dime.

Still, that didn't compare to watching a whole community of children growing from babies into school-ready kids over the course of a year. It didn't compare to the showers of heartfelt gratitude we teachers received from parents for caring for their children when they were away.

And it certainly didn't compare to storytime snuggles, end-of-day hugs, and the love and trust that we earned from our students for being there for them day after day.

All that said, I wouldn't change a thing. My career had a bumpy, awkward start, but now I get to work from home, homeschool my son, cook dinner every night, and spend zero time commuting. I can contribute to my community, grow a garden, and walk my dog.

I'm even nursing a little fantasy about one day returning to preschool teaching just for the joy of it — and supporting myself with a freelance career. We'll see what unfolds, but I don't regret rolling the dice, even though I still miss all the kids.