Well-being For Teachers: We Need A Better Model

Last week, I was at the FIBO Expo in Cologne, the world’s biggest fitness and wellness expo. It’s a place of intensity. Muscle metrics, cryo chambers, supplement booths shouting (sometimes quite literally) in neon. I expected that. What I didn’t expect was a quiet shift I felt rippling through the noise. A growing hunger for recovery over hustle. For realness over performance. For nervous systems, not just six-packs.

And it made me think - not about athletes - but about well-being for teachers, youth workers, counsellors, facilitators, and the people who hold space for others every single day.

We're Trained to Hold Others. But Who Holds Us?

If you’ve ever run a workshop, led the learning in a classroom, or supported young people through tough conversations, you know this: it can take a lot from you. Not just time or energy, but your whole self - emotionally, relationally, somatically.

I talk a lot in my work with Let's Be Real about realness, vulnerability, and connection. But here’s the uncomfortable truth I’ve been sitting with lately: In this line of work, it’s dangerously easy to abandon your own wellbeing in service of others’.

I’ve seen it in schools, nonprofits, even in myself. And as I walked through rows of machines at FIBO promising “optimised recovery” and “stress relief in 10 minutes,” I had this weird moment of envy.

Imagine if teachers and counsellors got the same kind of care athletes do.

Imagine if school leaders had “recovery booths.” Imagine if burnout wasn’t held like some sort of twisted badge of honour.

Wellbeing, Reframed

FIBO reminded me that well-being isn’t a side project. It’s not a perk. It’s foundational. But we need a different kind of wellness model, especially in education and working with young people. Not one based on productivity or outcomes, but on:

• Belonging – feeling part of a team that sees and values you.

• Boundaries – being allowed to say no, rest, opt out.

• Bodies – moving, breathing, regulating together, not just talking.

• Bravery – creating spaces where it’s okay to be messy and real.

These aren’t just “nice to have.” They’re what keep us human in a job that often demands superhuman energy.

So What Do We Do With This?

Here are some ideas I’m experimenting with, in schools, workshops, and within myself:

1. Start with nervous system check-ins.

   Before the lesson or the session: how are we arriving in our bodies? We can’t connect when we’re dysregulated.

   
   

2. Design for recovery, not just delivery.

   Workshops that include breathing, rest, reflection. Not just content.

   
   

3. Build micro-moments of care.

   Shoutout culture. Silent spaces. Staff meetings that don’t always need an agenda.

   
   

4. Talk about it.

   Name burnout. Talk about loneliness. Make it normal to not be okay. That’s where belonging begins.

Realness is Resistance

There’s something often seen as radical about choosing care in a culture of grind. And as someone who facilitates spaces where young people, teachers, and change-makers show up in all their complexity, here’s what I’m holding onto:

We can’t create safe, connected spaces for others if we don’t know what that feels like ourselves.

So yes, FIBO had ice baths and recovery boots. But what it gave me was something quieter and much more urgent:

A reminder that those who hold space need space too. Let’s build it together.