I recently spent an afternoon with an older couple I’d never met before. Our conversation turned to my kids, and I casually mentioned that we homeschool. I could feel the air turn icy cold. Though neither of them voiced a negative opinion, I could tell instantly that they didn’t like the idea. As they politely asked questions, I answered, and with each response could feel their disdain become more palpable.

Ten years ago, I would have cared. Ten years ago, I would have joyfully told them how fabulous homeschooling was for my family, how wonderful it was to be able to focus on the kids’ interests as we read our way through every shelf in the library. I would have talked about jumping through hoops and regurgitating facts and family togetherness. Ten years ago, I signed petitions, wrote letters to senators, and shared my story with everyone who would listen. I was a poster parent for home educators everywhere.

You know what? I’m over that.

I don’t need to explain myself to anyone, least of all people that I will never see again. I do what I do because it works, end of story. It may not work for everyone – and I know that. I don’t need to offer proof that my kids are learning, and I swear, if you ask them, “what’s seven times nine?” I will go ballistic – not because they don’t know, but because that’s just rude and off-putting and it makes my kids feel uncomfortable.

While I’ll still add my voice to the pro-homeschool movement, after ten years of homeschooling, I no longer feel the need to convince people that I’m making the right choice. If people are interested in hearing about our experience – really interested – I’m happy to talk about it. If people are considering home education for their family, I’ll support them 100%. But if you feel the need to pass judgment? Take a hike. I don’t have time for that.