I grew up playing sports. I was trained to sacrifice my body to stop a ground ball or dive across the floor to dig a spiked volleyball. As an athlete, my body was used as a line of defense for many years and I was willing to bare scars and bruises for the sake of winning, for the sake and thrill of competition. In 2011, years after organized sports faded out of my life, my mom dragged (yes dragged) me to my first yoga class. I entered the studio that day with the mindset of “this will be easy”. Humbled doesn’t even begin to describe the way I felt as walked out of class that day.
Yet I returned the studio over and over again. In the beginning, yoga was a challenge I was determined to overcome, to defeat. However, months after my first class I finally realized there was no finish line in the practice of yoga and there would be no first place trophy to place on my shelf. And so began my yoga journey. A journey that began by hiding in the back of the room, continues through Baptiste trainings and has led me to stand firmly at the front of the room to teach and share all that I have to offer.
When I teach I challenge, I give and I show up to encourage students to continue to strive to be the best possible version of themselves. The version that loves who they are, where they are and the body they possess. The body I sacrificed for so many years is now the body I cherish. And that first place yoga trophy I had sought for so long has shown up in my life as the blessing to teach this practice and share this practice with such an incredible community.