Two months into our homeschooling journey, and I'm learning so much more than I ever imagined.
I did something big this year.
Something I've dreamed about for a long time. Something I felt deeply passionate about, but if I'm being completely honest, something that also scared the crap out of me.
I questioned everything.
Would I have enough time? Could I actually do this? Was I capable of teaching my child? Would I completely mess up her education? And how on earth was I going to fit one more thing into an already overflowing life?
But underneath all those fears was this quiet knowing.
I wanted my daughter home.
So this September, I took the leap.
I became a homeschooling mama.
And oh my goodness, what a journey it's already been.
The Decision That Wasn't So Simple
Last year, my oldest daughter started kindergarten.
And she LOVED it.
She loved her friends, her teachers, the bus rides, the playing, the independence. She thrived in so many ways, and I was genuinely happy to see her enjoying herself.
But something was happening inside me.
Every other day, I would send her off into the world, and I would miss her.
Not just in that normal I miss my baby kind of way.
It was something deeper.
I felt like I was slowly losing these precious hours of her childhood. Hours that we would never get back. Hours where she could be part of the beautiful, messy, unconventional life we've worked so hard to create.
We are building an intentional community here at Secret Sanctuary. A life centred around connection, nature, self-sufficiency, learning, and doing things a little differently.
And yet, I was watching my daughter spend more and more of her days away from that life.
The thought of grade one approaching, with five full days of school every single week, felt incredibly heavy.
I didn't want to just see her in the evenings and on weekends.
I wanted her to be part of my life. Not just the life we squeezed in around school.
And so, I made the decision.
We were going to homeschool.
Easy, right?
Ha! Not quite.
Plot Twist: My Daughter Didn't Want to Homeschool
Here's something I wasn't entirely prepared for.
My daughter wanted to go back to school.
Like, really wanted to.
She loved her friends. She loved the bus. She loved all the social experiences that came with being in a classroom.
And here I was, full of excitement about this beautiful homeschooling adventure I had imagined for us, while she was trying to convince me to send her back.
Talk about questioning yourself.
I had family members questioning my decision, my own insecurities whispering in my ear, and now the very child I wanted to do this with wasn't exactly on board.
There were moments when I wondered if I was making a huge mistake.
Was I putting my own desires ahead of hers? Was I taking something away from her that she genuinely loved?
Those weren't easy questions to sit with.
But we talked. A lot.
I explained why spending more time together mattered to me, why I wanted her involved in our everyday life, and why I felt there were different ways to learn and grow outside of a traditional classroom.
Eventually, we made an agreement.
We would give homeschooling a try for grade one, and we could revisit the decision for grade two.
It wasn't some magical moment where suddenly everyone was excited and everything fell into place.
It was a beginning.
And honestly, those first weeks were hard.
There was resistance. There were doubts. There were moments when I wondered what on earth I had gotten myself into.
Oh, and did I mention I'm pregnant through all of this?
Because apparently growing a human, running a business, homesteading, raising two children, and teaching grade one sounded like a perfectly reasonable combination.
Ha!
Then Something Started to Shift
We're now about two months into our homeschooling journey.
And something really beautiful is happening.
We've found a rhythm.
Not a perfect rhythm. Not one of those picture-perfect homeschooling scenes you see on Instagram where everyone is peacefully painting watercolours around a beautifully decorated wooden table.
We still have our moments.
But we've found our rhythm.
And I've discovered something I didn't even realize was missing.
Intentional, uninterrupted time with my daughter.
You see, our life is full.
Between running Secret Sanctuary, greeting guests, caring for animals, tending to our homestead, baking bread for our community, making ferments, keeping the house somewhat under control, and the million other things that come with this lifestyle, I'm always doing something.
Our children are wonderfully independent. They're creative, resourceful, and incredibly good at entertaining themselves.
And I've always been grateful for that.
But I've also realized something.
I had become so accustomed to them being part of my life while I did all the things that I wasn't always making the space to simply be with them.
To sit down.
To focus.
To listen.
To give them my full attention without a loaf of bread needing to come out of the oven or a guest needing something.
And now, every day, I sit with my daughter for a couple of hours.
Just us, learning together.
And wow.
The difference in our relationship has been incredible.
I'm getting to know her in a whole new way. I'm seeing how her mind works, what excites her, what frustrates her, how she processes the world.
Our communication has deepened. Our connection has grown.
And I genuinely look forward to this time with her.
I thought I was creating space to teach my daughter.
But what I was really creating was space to know her.
And Here's the Part I Never Saw Coming…
I have a little confession.
I'm dyslexic.
And school was really, really hard for me.
I struggled with reading for most of my childhood. I was in learning support classes, had tutors, received countless interventions, and eventually had to leave French immersion in grade eight because I simply couldn't keep up.
I didn't become a functional reader until grade twelve.
Even then, I had developed my own ways of navigating language. Memorizing words. Recognizing patterns. Creating systems in my mind to compensate for the skills I struggled with.
Reading didn't come naturally to me.
And learning new words can still be challenging.
So you can imagine how intimidating it felt to suddenly be responsible for teaching another human being how to read.
Me? Teaching phonics?
The woman who spent most of her childhood struggling to understand it?
Well, here's where the universe has a funny way of working things out.
Because as I've been teaching my daughter to read, I've been learning right alongside her.
We're breaking words apart, learning sounds, blending letters, and understanding the foundations of language in ways I don't remember ever fully grasping as a child.
And something is clicking.
For both of us.
She's already making incredible progress with blending sounds and reading simple words. Watching her confidence grow has been one of the most rewarding experiences.
But what I didn't expect was how much this process would help me.
I'm learning skills that are making reading easier for me, too.
At 38 years old.
How amazing is that?
There's something incredibly healing about sitting beside my daughter, learning something together that caused me so much struggle and frustration when I was young.
Instead of feeling embarrassed about what I don't know, I get to be curious.
Instead of feeling behind, I get to celebrate the discoveries.
And instead of seeing my learning differences as something that might make me an inadequate teacher, I'm beginning to see how they might actually make me a more compassionate one.
I know what it feels like when learning doesn't come easily.
I know what it feels like to need more time.
And I know how important it is to feel supported rather than judged.
Maybe that's one of the greatest gifts I can bring to her education.
Who would have thought that teaching my daughter to read would become part of my own learning and healing journey?
Certainly not me.
Learning Doesn't Have to Look Like School
One of my favourite things about homeschooling so far is watching my children light up when we explore something they're genuinely interested in.
We have our structured learning, of course. Reading, writing, math, and the foundations we want to build.
But there's also so much freedom.
Freedom to follow curiosity.
Freedom to spend longer on something that's exciting.
Freedom to take our learning outside, get our hands dirty, experiment, create, and explore.
My four-year-old has even jumped into the adventure, and it's been so fun watching both girls participate in their own ways.
We've also started incorporating daily contributions to our home, because I want our children to understand that they're not just living in our community.
They're part of creating it.
Their contributions matter.
Their ideas matter.
And their ability to care for themselves, each other, and the world around them matters.
My partner has jumped into the adventure too.
Our daughter recently started piano lessons, something she's been really interested in, and now he's teaching himself piano alongside her.
He's absolutely loving it.
So he's officially on piano practice duty, while I tackle most of the other subjects during the day.
It's becoming this beautiful family co-creation.
We've also joined a local homeschooling group that organizes wonderful activities, and she's making new friends and enjoying experiences outside our home.
Because let's be clear, this little social butterfly still needs her people!
And I love that we can honour that part of her while creating something different for our family.
I'm Not Homeschooling Out of Fear. I'm Homeschooling Out of Love.
This has probably been my biggest realization of all.
When I first started considering homeschooling, I had plenty of concerns about the traditional education system.
And I still do.
I question how we educate children, the values we prioritize, the pressure to fit everyone into the same structure, and whether we're truly nurturing independent thinkers or preparing children to fit into a system.
Those questions haven't gone away.
But I've realized something important.
I don't want my decisions to be driven by everything I'm afraid of.
I want them to be driven by what I'm trying to create.
And what I'm trying to create is connection.
Connection to family.
Connection to community.
Connection to nature.
Connection to ourselves.
I want my children to grow up knowing that learning is something we do throughout our entire lives, not just something that happens inside a classroom.
I want them to feel empowered to follow their curiosity, question things, make mistakes, try again, and discover who they are.
And more than anything, I want to be present for this beautiful, fleeting chapter of their lives.
I don't believe homeschooling is the only way to create these things. There are incredible teachers, wonderful schools, and many different paths that work beautifully for different families.
But right now, for us, this feels aligned.
And that matters.
The Freedom to Choose
Something else this journey has made me incredibly grateful for is the life we've worked so hard to build.
Being entrepreneurs, creating our own income streams, growing our food, and building a more self-sufficient lifestyle hasn't always been easy.
In fact, it's been downright exhausting at times.
But one of the biggest reasons we've chosen this path is freedom.
Freedom to make decisions about how we spend our time.
Freedom to create a life around our values.
Freedom to be more involved in raising our children.
And this year, that freedom has allowed me to make a choice I once only dreamed about.
I also recognize what a privilege that is.
Not every family has the flexibility, support, resources, or circumstances to make homeschooling possible.
And I don't take that lightly.
I'm deeply grateful that, at this stage of our lives, we can make it work.
Even if some days that means the bread doesn't get baked, the house is a disaster, and I'm wondering how many more things I can possibly fit into one day.
Because, well… that's life.
And we're figuring it out.
To the Mama Who's Scared to Take the Leap…
If you're considering homeschooling, or you've just started and you're sitting there wondering if you've made a terrible mistake, I want you to know something.
I've been there.
I've questioned myself more times than I can count.
I've worried that I'm not doing enough, that I'm not qualified enough, that my child is missing out, that I should be doing things differently.
And I'm only two months in!
I certainly don't have all the answers.
I'm not writing this as some seasoned homeschooling expert who's figured out the perfect curriculum or mastered the art of teaching children.
Far from it.
I'm just a mama who followed a feeling in her heart, took a scary leap, and is discovering some pretty incredible things along the way.
So give yourself grace.
Give your children grace.
Give the process time.
Let it be messy.
Let it evolve.
And remember that sometimes the most meaningful learning isn't the stuff you can measure on a worksheet.
Sometimes it's the conversation that happens while you're making lunch.
The excitement in your child's eyes when something finally clicks.
The laughter over a word neither of you can pronounce.
Or the quiet realization that you've spent two beautiful hours together, fully present, and somehow you both came away a little more connected.
Two months ago, I thought I was taking on the responsibility of educating my daughter.
What I didn't realize was that I was also giving us a gift.
The gift of time.
Time to learn.
Time to grow.
Time to make mistakes.
Time to understand each other.
And perhaps, in ways I never expected, time to heal.
I don't know exactly what our homeschooling journey will look like next year.
Maybe she'll return to school. Maybe we'll continue learning at home.
We're keeping that conversation open.
But I do know this.
I'm so grateful I gave us the chance.
And if there's one thing I've learned so far, it's that sometimes the things that scare us the most are the very things that open the door to something beautiful.
With love and gratitude,
Denika 💚
