I always thought that yoga was about perfect poses and grace. I put off my first class for a long time because I couldn’t reach my toes and laughed at myself. And then I just came. Without expectations, with inner fatigue and some fragile hope for “something good”.

At the first class, all I did was look around. Everyone seemed so collected, smooth, and I was a bundle of tension. But then the instructor said: “Yoga is not about how you look. It’s about how you feel.”

I remembered this.

Over time, I began to notice how emotions live in the body. How clenched shoulders are anxiety. How your stomach is pulled in is fear. How your jaw clenches is something unsaid.
And when you enter a pose, hold it, breathe — you don’t just stretch your muscles. You let go.
Yourself. The situation. Expectations.

Sometimes I cried on the mat. Quietly, not because of the pain. But because my heart suddenly began to speak without words.

Now yoga is not about the ideal “downward facing dog.” It’s about an evening when you stay with yourself, turn off the whole world and let yourself be.