Blog

I used to think I needed to be good at yoga to deserve a place on the mat. Seriously. I’d show up to class and spend half of it in my head - comparing, adjusting, wondering if I looked like I knew what I was doing. Missing the whole point of why I was even there. And honestly? That’s exactly how I was living my life too. Understanding everything. Trying hard. And still somehow convincedI was doing it wrong.

There’s a lot being held right now. Not just yours - all of it. The personal, the global, the relational. The weight of wanting to show up with integrity while the noise gets louder. And somewhere in the middle of all that, you still have to eat. Still have to breathe. Still have to be a person.

You know what’s edgy? Not the things we were told were edgy when we were young. Not rebellion for the sake of being seen. Edgy, to me, is this. It’s standing in midlife, in a body that sometimes feels like a stranger to me…and deciding to cloak her in lingerie. To step into shapes that, for most of my life, felt reserved for the youthful, the sexual, the ones who hadn’t already lived so many chapters.