I was introduced to hot yoga at the age of 15. In the beginning, it didn’t come naturally to me. I felt frustrated and discouraged, and after a few classes, I stopped going and convinced myself it wasn’t for me. It was so different from anything I had ever done. I’ve always been an athlete, playing varsity sports and spending time indoor cycling. I loved movement and being in my body, but by the age of 21, I began to notice that these activities were leaving me feeling sore, tight, and even struggling with anxiety.

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Eventually, I found my way back to yoga and something shifted.

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What I didn’t realize at the time was that I was beginning a journey that would require me to trust something I didn’t fully understand yet. Yoga became more than just a physical practice; it became a space where I could listen, soften, and begin to believe in something deeper within myself.

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When the pandemic shifted everything, I found myself at a crossroads. Without having all the answers, I chose to trust what I felt called toward. I signed up for a 200-hour teacher training, following a dream that I didn’t fully understand but deeply believed in.

That decision changed everything.

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Since becoming a teacher, I’ve built communities rooted in love, acceptance, and vulnerability spaces where people feel seen, supported, and safe to show up exactly as they are. Teaching has shown me the power of connection, both within myself and with others.

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Leading retreats has expanded that understanding even further. Each experience has revealed parts of me I didn’t know existed, continuing to teach me how to trust, grow, and hold space in deeper ways. It reminds me that the journey isn’t about having everything figured out, but about staying open to who you are becoming.

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I used to believe that my body needed to look a certain way or achieve the “perfect” posture. Now I understand that yoga is so much more than the physical form. It’s an embodiment of mind, body, and soul an opportunity to move with awareness, meet yourself where you are, and find ease within the effort.

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It’s not always easy. I still experience discomfort, both physically and mentally. But now, that discomfort doesn’t scare me. Instead, it reminds me that I’m growing. This practice has taught me to trust the process, to believe in my dreams even before I fully understand their power, and to keep showing up with curiosity, courage, and an open heart.