Why I Started Yoga

When I was young, I saw my mother struggle with her weight. I don't mean I saw her struggle to lose weight; when my mom looks in the mirror, that is the first thing she would point out. This only affected me once my father started CrossFit. Between their divorce and the extreme diets, fitness, and health expectations surrounding me, I began to question my own body. I remember my father playing with what little baby fat I had left. I remember the way I started to notice people considered that a bad thing.

I spent that same summer talking to a boy, let's call him Victor. I had the biggest crush on this boy. He had been coming over to my place a few times that summer. Between that and my "ex-boyfriend" living down the street, I hadn't taken the time to acknowledge my sudden disinterest in food and how the interactions I was having this summer contributed

It wasn't until I ate spaghetti with my mom at one of the family's favorite restaurants that she noticed my small appetite. She pointed it out, of course. At that moment, I sat back like..... wow. She is right. Is it an eating disorder? I would ask myself this and neglect to answer it from the ages of 13-19. Even still turning 21, I have my moments. 

This is why yoga became so important to me. Yoga allows me to be aware of how I care for my body. I now eat to show up and practice feeling good, and I eat right to show up and feel even better. Beyond that, the bond I have created with my own soul, though it may be underdeveloped, is strong and beyond valuable to me. There are not many feelings that can compare to the feeling of laying on your mat dripping sweat as the pain, loss, and tragedy seep into your mat. You revisit these hurts but ultimately roll them away. It feels nice to cleanse the body of what holds it down and provide movement in parts of myself that remain stagnant.