Okay, so the first lecture after Reading Week and I'm 'teaching' my fellow students again.
I first wanted to become a teacher in Primary School. 'What do you want to be when you grow up?' they asked, constantly (doesn't that question really annoy you?!). I wanted to become a teacher or an astronaut, and definitely a mother. I kept the last option quiet as you weren't supposed to opt for that if you were bright. You were supposed to have a career in mind.
By the time I was 16 my biological clock was ticking away and by the age of 18 I couldn't walk past Mothercare without getting awful pangs of longing. In my twenties I abandoned the idea of teaching as I hadn't got a degree and was stressed out with motherhood (thankfully, I had the good sense to wait until I was settled before properly planning a family) so I didn't think I would cope with the stress.
In my thirties I tried and failed to get involved with children in church and Scouts - I was still far too stressed and my depression and anxiety ran wild. As usual, I was trying to run before I'd even grown legs and constantly thought of myself as 'cured' of my depressive personality, even though I had a long long way to go.
Now I'm forty and at University and 'teaching' my fellow students, giving advice and generally encouraging them, even though I know no more than them (and usually less). I get embarrassed and laugh and they laugh as well, saying they appreciate the advice and support. It's an odd situation all 'round.
Off to the Careers section tomorrow afternoon to do a little research on teaching. Worcester's a good Uni for a PGCE, so that's not a problem, but I need to make sure I'm on the right degree pathway if I want to go into that field.