I’d always thought yoga was just stretching. A slow, gentle form of exercise for the flexible and zen, a workout you did when you wanted to relax rather than burn calories or build strength. My friends would talk about their yoga classes, and I’d smile and nod, thinking it sounded nice, but not really for me. I’d stick to running, lifting weights, and the occasional Pilates class. Yoga seemed… tame.
But all that changed the day I decided, somewhat on a whim, to sign up for a beginner’s yoga class at my local studio. I’d been feeling stressed, overwhelmed with work, and a bit disconnected from myself. My body felt tight, my mind cluttered. The idea of stretching for an hour seemed like the perfect low-pressure way to unwind. I showed up in my leggings and tank top, mat in hand, expecting a gentle, relaxing experience.
The class started with simple breathing exercises, and I felt a bit self-conscious at first, exhaling loudly while everyone else seemed so serene. But as we moved through the poses – downward dog, child’s pose, warrior, and tree – I found myself slowly tuning in to my breath and the sensations in my body. My mind, usually racing with to-do lists and worries, began to quiet. I noticed tension in my shoulders I hadn’t realized was there, and with each exhale, I imagined releasing it. My body began to feel lighter.
As the instructor guided us into a seated forward fold, encouraging us to let go of any judgment or expectations, something shifted. I felt a lump in my throat. My eyes stung. Before I knew it, tears were streaming down my face. I wasn’t in pain. I wasn’t sad. But there was a deep release happening, as if my body had been holding on to stress, grief, and emotions I hadn’t allowed myself to feel. It was overwhelming, but it felt good – a cleansing, a letting go.
After class, I stayed behind to talk to the instructor. She smiled knowingly when I told her I’d unexpectedly cried. “That’s yoga,” she said. “It’s not just stretching. It’s about releasing what we’ve been holding on to – physically, mentally, and emotionally.”
That experience changed how I viewed yoga. I began practicing regularly, not just for the physical benefits but for the emotional and mental release it provided. I learned that certain poses, like hip openers and heart openers, are known for releasing stored emotions. I noticed how my breath became a tool for calming my nervous system, for staying present when life felt chaotic. I found that yoga wasn’t about perfecting poses or being the most flexible person in the room – it was about connecting with myself, listening to my body, and giving myself permission to feel.
Over time, yoga taught me patience and self-compassion. It helped me slow down and notice the subtleties of my inner world. It gave me a safe space to process emotions and experiences that I might have otherwise pushed aside. It taught me that vulnerability isn’t weakness – it’s strength.
One day, during a particularly challenging class, I found myself in pigeon pose, a deep hip opener. As I breathed into the discomfort, I felt a wave of sadness rise up. Memories I hadn’t thought of in years surfaced, and again, tears welled up. But this time, I didn’t feel embarrassed or try to hold them back. I let the tears flow, knowing that this release was part of my healing.
I began to see how yoga was changing not just my body but my mind and spirit. I felt more grounded, more resilient, more open to the ebb and flow of life. I noticed how I responded to stress differently – with more grace, less reactivity. I felt a deeper connection to others, more empathy, more presence.
In a world that often encourages us to stay busy, distracted, and detached from our feelings, yoga offered me a sanctuary – a space where I could be with myself, just as I was. It taught me to breathe through discomfort, to soften rather than tense, to stay present rather than escape. It showed me that sometimes, the greatest strength lies in letting go.
I started to explore different styles of yoga – from gentle yin and restorative classes to more dynamic vinyasa flows. Each style brought new insights and challenges. Yin classes, with their long-held poses, encouraged me to sit with discomfort and observe my thoughts without judgment. Vinyasa classes taught me about the power of breath and movement in harmony. Restorative yoga showed me the importance of deep rest and surrender. Every practice became a mirror, reflecting back to me parts of myself I hadn’t seen or acknowledged.
I also began reading about the philosophy behind yoga – the eight limbs of yoga outlined in Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras. I discovered that yoga is not just about the poses (asanas) but also about ethics, self-discipline, breathwork (pranayama), concentration, meditation, and ultimately, finding union with the self. This deeper understanding gave me a newfound respect for the practice and inspired me to integrate its principles into my daily life.
As I delved into yoga philosophy, I noticed how the yamas and niyamas – ethical guidelines for living – resonated with my own values. Ahimsa (non-violence), satya (truthfulness), aparigraha (non-possessiveness), and santosha (contentment) became more than abstract concepts; they became guiding principles I could apply to my relationships, work, and self-care. I realized that yoga was not just something I did on the mat – it was a way of living.
The more I practiced, the more I noticed subtle changes in my body and mind. My posture improved. My breath became slower and deeper. My sleep improved. My mind felt clearer. I found myself reacting less to stress and more able to pause and respond with intention. My relationships deepened as I became a better listener and more present.
One of the most profound lessons yoga taught me was the importance of self-acceptance. In a world that constantly tells us we need to be more – more successful, more productive, more attractive – yoga reminded me that I am enough as I am. It taught me to embrace my imperfections, to honor my body’s limits, and to let go of the need for external validation. On the mat, there was no competition, no comparison – just me and my breath, moving at my own pace.
I also noticed how yoga connected me to a sense of community. In classes, surrounded by people of all ages and backgrounds, I felt a shared energy, a collective exhale. We were all there for different reasons, but united by a desire to connect with ourselves and each other. I made new friends, shared stories, and found support in unexpected places.
Looking back, I’m amazed at how a simple decision to try a yoga class transformed my life. What started as a way to stretch and relax became a journey of self-discovery, healing, and growth. Yoga opened doors to parts of myself I hadn’t known existed. It taught me to listen, to feel, to let go. It showed me that sometimes, we need to slow down and breathe to find clarity and peace.
So now, when someone says to me, “Isn’t yoga just stretching?” I smile. Because I know that for me, and for so many others, it’s so much more. It’s a practice of coming home to myself, of shedding layers of stress and fear, of opening my heart. And yes, sometimes it makes me cry – in the best, most cathartic way possible.
And that’s why I keep coming back to my mat, again and again.