About Me — Angie Leon
Life has a weird way of working out
Most of my life has been one seemingly random decision after another, and it’s working out surprisingly well.
When I was 17, I knew I wanted to major in art. My parents, however, worried it wouldn’t be practical, so I had to think fast. My mom was a teacher, so I said, “Well, I can teach art then, and I can always change majors if I want.”
So with my temporary degree in mind, I started looking for colleges, but I quickly realized that most art programs required a portfolio. An extremely lazy senior like myself was absolutely not going to do that.
Temple University was the only nearby college that didn’t ask for a portfolio, so I sent my application in October of 2005. To my surprise, I got my acceptance letter before Thanksgiving. I didn’t bother finishing any other applications. I was going to Philadelphia.
I stuck with art education and graduated in 2011. A few of my friends were eager to start teaching K-12 art, but I wasn’t so keen. I had been a nanny for a few years and enjoyed working with little kids. I started applying to early childhood positions, even though that was literally the only age group I wasn’t certified to teach.
I taught in a couple of poorly-run preschools for a few years, and the experience was truly awful. During this time, I also had a series of equally terrible relationships and needed a change. I went back to nannying, broke up with my toxic boyfriend, and I was much happier.
One day while the babies I nannied napped, I scrolled through my dating app of choice. I noticed that I could set my search preference from “near me” to “everywhere,” so I did. I was excited to flirt as much as possible without actually having to make an effort to see anyone.
While browsing the international faces, I found a cute bearded guy from Copenhagen. Did I know that was the capital of Denmark? Nope. Did I message him anyway? Of course I did.
Six weeks later, this Danish stranger came to visit me for ten days. A few months after that, he asked if I wanted to move to Denmark with him. I liked him a lot and welcomed the chance to live abroad, so I started packing.
On October 25, 2014, I boarded a plane with nothing but two suitcases and my dog, Sherlock. My boyfriend of only a few months helped me adjust to life in Denmark and supported us both while I looked for work.
One day, I found a job posting for an international school looking for primary teachers. I sent my application but didn’t expect a response because I had zero professional experience in international or primary schools.
I was surprised when I received an invitation to an interview. I met with the headmaster, and he told me they had already filled the advertised positions. I must have looked confused because he quickly went on to say that they were in the process of expanding their school to include pre-kindergarten, but they needed to find a person with early childhood experience.
I was apparently that person.
He offered me a job to design their entire pre-kindergarten program and teach one of the classes. My decision to teach preschool years prior was pretty convenient right about now.
I accepted the job and got to work. A few months later, I also started a blog about living and teaching abroad. Over the next few years, I built a comfortable career and enjoyed writing whenever I had a chance.
Eventually, my busy teaching schedule left little free time for writing. As I became more stressed and overwhelmed, my blog went dormant, and my relationships with teaching and my boyfriend rapidly deteriorated.
My ex and I parted amicably, and I moved out of the apartment. I briefly considered quitting my job and moving to another country or even back home, but I happened to meet a new coworker. He quickly became a close friend and, eventually, my current partner.
My new relationship gave me a reason to stay in Denmark, but I was still deeply unhappy with my job. The stress eventually caused severe physical and mental health issues that finally forced me to resign. I knew it had to happen, but I was terrified. How the heck can a preschool teacher survive outside the classroom?
My doctor referred me to a therapist who suggested that I start journaling again. I spent my mornings typing away, and it felt wonderful to write again. Then I remembered the blog I’d been neglecting. Could this be the next thing for me?
A few months later, I stumbled upon an exciting job posting. They were looking for ghostwriters with teaching experience, so I sent my application. A few days later, I was writing product reviews for a teaching blog. Shortly after that, I started writing blog posts for a handful of early education companies.
It’s not enough to pay the bills yet, but I’m slowly working towards being a full-time writer.
My 18-year-old self would never have guessed that my decisions would take me all the way to Denmark, and my 26-year-old self would be shocked to learn I left the classroom. But that’s what happened.
I have absolutely no idea where my path will lead from here, but going with the flow has gotten me this far.
Might as well keep going.
