My Story
I didn't come to yoga ready to teach.
I came in 2019, in the middle of a bad breakup and a long wait for papers to clear, mostly because my father asked me to try a course. What I actually needed was a way out of my own head — and yoga gave me that, but not the way people expect.
It didn't hand me peace. It showed me exactly how loud my mind could get, and how much daily work it takes to watch it instead of being run by it.
It took six years, and three more trainings, before I let myself call this a career.
Partly because I didn't want to teach from a place of needing money before I'd earned the right to teach honestly. Yoga isn't just asana — it asks who you actually are underneath who you pretend to be, and I wasn't ready to stand in front of anyone until I'd sat with that question myself.
I'm not offering you a finished person.
I still am — some habits have held, some are still being fought, some are only newly gone. I'm offering someone a few steps further down the same path, still walking it. Which is probably exactly why I don't hand anyone a fixed routine.
I'm offering someone a few steps further down the same path, still walking it.