You’re Not Broken: What Teacher Anxiety Is Really Telling You

Note to School and District Leaders: If you’re hearing more and more about teacher anxiety, there’s a reason. Your staff is carrying a lot—and it’s showing up in their mental, emotional, and even physical health. But that doesn’t mean they’re weak or unfit for the work. This article is written directly to teachers to help them reframe what anxiety really means. Share it with your team. Because a supported teacher is a present teacher.

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Teachers, I See You

Hey everyone—I'm John, and like you, I’m a teacher.

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I spent years in education—from a massive public high school in Texas and a small private elementary school, to the university classroom and different administrative offices. My wife is a career educator, and my in-laws and my parents are both career educators. Teaching and caring for students is in my blood. All of this experience gives me a ton of respect and gratitude for teachers, but it doesn't hold a candle to what I feel when I drop off my son and daughter at their schools and hand them over to you. The personal nature of teaching has transitioned from me at the front of a classroom to me dropping off my children at school.  

You show up every day for kids like mine. You walk alongside my children through their challenges, you celebrate their wins, and you stand in the gap when they need it most.

Thank you.

And right now? You’re doing it in a world that feels loud, angry and uncertain. It seems like the whole world has it out for educators of all kinds. I’m anxious and I’m certain you are too.

Why You Feel Anxious All the Time

Let’s call it like it is: These are anxious times in education.

Everyone has an opinion about what you should be doing, how you should be teaching, and how you should be disciplining, communicating and showing up. And most of those opinions? They often come from people who’ve never stood before a classroom of students in their lives.

If you’re feeling anxious, overwhelmed or constantly on edge, I want you to hear this loud and clear: You’re not crazy. Your body is doing exactly what it’s supposed to do. It’s trying to get your attention and keep you safe.

Anxiety Is Not the Problem

Anxiety isn’t something you “have.” It’s not a diagnosis or a defect. Anxiety is an alarm. It’s your body’s way of telling you, “Hey—something’s not right and you might be under attack.”

Think of a smoke detector in your kitchen. It’s loud. It’s annoying. But it’s not the fire. It’s just alerting you to something that needs your attention. Your anxiety is the same. It’s not the root problem—it’s a symptom that something in your world isn’t safe, healthy or sustainable. Or all three.

You’re Not Crazy—Your Body Is Working

Almost every teacher and administrator I talk to right now is struggling with feeling anxious. And one thing I wish I’d known back when I was in the classroom was that feeling anxious wasn't a personal failure. It was my body’s way of saying, “You’re exhausted. Something’s not right here. You’re under attack. You’re overwhelmed. You’re trying to drag potential future challenges into the present. You’re carrying too much.”

This isn’t about weakness. It’s about biology. Your system is sounding an alarm because your body has detected that you’re not safe. That’s not dysfunction. That’s design.

It Doesn’t Mean You’re in the Wrong Career

Sometimes when anxiety hits hard, it feels like a flashing sign that says, “You’re in the wrong job. You’ve got to get out.” But anxiety doesn’t always mean you’re in the wrong place. It might mean you need to make some changes outside of the classroom so you can continue to show up for a difficult—sometimes thankless—but vital and important job.

Yes, you might need to set some boundaries. You might need different or additional support from your leadership. You might need rest and new training. But don’t confuse burnout with the being in the wrong calling.

Teaching is hard. All meaningful and important callings are. It’s also transformational—for students, families, communities and our country.

And we need you in it.

Where to Start

You can’t eliminate every stressor in your life—but you can make daily choices that help you build a life of peace. In my book Building a Non-Anxious Life, I share six choices that work together to turn down the noise and reconnect you with what matters. Here’s what they look like in the life of a teacher:

1. Choose reality.

You can’t heal from what you won’t face. Choosing reality means being honest about your energy levels, your relationships, your finances and your calendar—not how you want things to be, but how they actually are. Are you staying late every night and running on fumes? Are there relationships in your life that are draining you? Set aside time to write it all out. This is your starting line—and your first step toward peace.

2. Choose connection.

Anxiety thrives in isolation—but healing happens in community. You weren’t meant to teach, lead, grade, plan and care for everyone all by yourself. And yet, many teachers feel like they’re on their own island. Start by reaching out: Invite a colleague to eat lunch together (yes, at your desks). Text a friend to check in. Say yes when someone offers help. You don’t need dozens of people—just a few trusted folks who see you and still love you.

3. Choose freedom.

An anxious mind is often a trapped mind—trapped by student loan debt, curriculum demands, overstuffed classrooms, overpacked calendars, and expectations from every direction. Start creating space to breathe: Declutter your desk or that catch-all cabinet. Cancel one nonessential obligation. Say no to something that’s not yours to carry. Freedom often starts with subtraction. And every small act of margin helps your body exhale.

4. Choose health.

Your body keeps the score—whether it’s from years of stress, lack of sleep, or past trauma you’ve never had the space to heal. If you want to show up well for your students, you have to care for your physical and emotional health. That might mean taking a walk after dismissal instead of staying for one more hour of grading. Or choosing to rest instead of working through the weekend. Or finally scheduling that doctor or therapy appointment you’ve been putting off. You don’t have to overhaul your whole life—just start treating yourself like someone who matters.

5. Choose mindfulness.

Mindfulness isn’t just breathing exercises or meditation apps (though those can help). It’s about noticing what’s happening inside and creating space before reacting. In the classroom, that might mean pausing before you respond to a student’s outburst or a frustrating parent email. Try keeping a thought journal for the things that push your buttons or weigh you down. Get curious about what’s behind your responses. As you learn what’s really behind those emotions, you can start choosing to react differently.

6. Choose belief.

Teaching can feel like you’re carrying the weight of the world. But anchoring your life to something bigger than yourself—faith, purpose, a higher power—allows you to let go of the things you were never meant to control. For some of you, taking this step is a true leap of faith. That’s okay. Start with honesty and curiosity. Journal your questions. Talk to someone you trust. Visit a faith community. You don’t need to have it all figured out. You just need to begin.

These choices aren’t steps to master or boxes to check. They’re a way of living—daily practices that strengthen and support each other. Some days, all you can do is acknowledge reality. Other days, you’ll lean into connection and health and mindfulness. That’s how this works. Keep choosing, one small decision at a time. You’re worth the work. And a non-anxious life is possible—even in a classroom, even in this world, even for you.

This Isn’t the End of the Story

You are not broken.

Anxiety isn’t the finish line—it’s a signal that you and your body need your care, safety and attention. And when you listen to it—when you slow down, reflect, and respond with intention—you can get back into the driver seat of your own life and the alarms will begin to dial down.

Remember this: You are not alone. Despite the negative voices, teaching matters. You’re doing one of the most critically important jobs in the world. And you deserve to do it with clarity, health, purpose and strength.