MY YOGA STORY

Yoga is a practice that has evolved over thousands of years. In today’s world, yoga can mean many different things to different people, which ultimately shapes how it is shared across the world.  

To understand what a teacher can offer you, I believe it is important to know their own journey into discovering, practicing, and teaching yoga. So, here’s mine. 

My First Yoga Class 

My first introduction to yoga came through my nan – she brought me along to a local class when I was a little girl. I don’t remember an awful lot about it, but I do recall giggling when the teacher asked us to focus on wiggling our toes, one by one, and to pay close attention to the sensations. “What a strange thing for grownups to do!” I thought.  

Perhaps it felt unfamiliar to pay such close attention to my body, as I was so often lost in my imagination and curiosity as a child. I’d spend hours inventing stories, dreaming up scenarios, and diving deep into whatever had captured my interest. In other words, I spent a lot of time in my head.  

That fascination with learning eventually blossomed into a love of science and psychology, leading me to study neuroscience at the University of Leeds. I had read a lot of Oliver Sacks’ work prior to starting my degree and I was incredibly interested in not only how the healthy brain functions, but what happens on the molecular level when a brain "malfunctions" in the context of disease.  

I spent a lot of time researching neuroplasticity. Neuroplasticity is the brain’s ability to form new connections, to change structurally and functionally over time. You may be familiar with the phrase “neurons that fire together, wire together” ... well, this is a basic overview of neuroplasticity. I learnt that studies on Buddhist monk’s brains had shown that practices such as meditation can contribute to the flexibility of neural connections. I’d never tried meditation but thought this was fascinating!  

Then, in my final year of university, an ironic situation occurred. Whilst I was really enjoying studying the brain, my own brain wasn’t doing so well. I was struggling, and was eventually diagnosed with a form of OCD anxiety known as “pure OCD”.  

On my journey to getting better, a wise therapist suggested that I try physical activities that take me out of my head and force my attention into my body, which seemed sensible. They also encouraged me to think about what my relationship with thoughts are, and how I relate to them.  

I knew that yoga combined a range of practices for the body and the mind, and so off I went to my first group ashtanga class at the university union. I noted immediately that I wasn’t particularly flexible, and I felt intimidated by the people around me who were able to contort their bodies into wonderful and wild poses, all without changing their calm facial expressions. But none of that really mattered. When I walked out of that class, I felt different. I wasn’t able to put my finger on what “different” meant, but I realised that, for the first time in months, I had experienced some respite from my overthinking mind. I went to another class. And then another, and another, and... you get the picture. Over time, I realised that I was becoming less concerned with looking at what other people around me were doing in the class, and more focused on noticing the sensations in my own body from one moment to the next.   

A Changed Mindset 

Throughout the next few years, I dedicated a lot of my spare time to practising yoga asana (postures), exploring different styles of yoga and studying yoga philosophy. I developed a curiosity about consciousness, what thoughts are, the “Self” and the mind. Through studying yogic texts and attending classes at a local Buddhist centre, I noticed a shift in how I related to myself and the world around me, largely because of how I related to my thoughts.  

I came to understand the following teaching: I am not my thoughts, and they are not me. 

This sounds a little wild at first, I know. If I’m not my thoughts, then who am I? 

The collective practices of yoga have taught me that I am the awareness that can observe thoughts arising without stepping into them – regardless of their content; whether they’re “positive” or “negative” thoughts, future or past thoughts, whether they are anxious or depressive thoughts – it really does not matter.  

Here's an example I like to use to help explain this. Imagine that you’re in a social situation, and you notice your mind produces a thought: “I feel awkward, I don’t know what to say next.” Who exactly in there feels awkward? If you’re able to notice the thought, then it can’t be you that feels awkward, right? It’s the voice in your head, the voice of the mind, which feels awkward. So, what happens if you note that this thought has occurred, but instead of buying into it, you take a breath, relax, and settle back into your body, your senses? The thought often dissipates soon after it arises, and you’re able to live in that moment of presence instead of spiralling down a thought pathway.  

The process of maintaining presence and awareness is not easy; it takes consistency and practice. But for me, this way of understanding and relating to the mind has had a profound impact on my life and my wellbeing. Yoga has changed the structure of my body, made me stronger and probably enhanced the resilience of my bones and my muscles against aging and disease. But the greatest gift it has awarded me so far is a toolbox of practices that help me to live in awareness, and not in thought.  I love this quote from one of my favourite authors, Michael Singer:  

“There is nothing more important to true growth than realizing you are not the voice of the mind – you are the one who hears it,” - Michael Singer writes in The Untethered Soul.  

Yoga Teacher Training 

In 2021, I felt inspired to complete my yoga teacher training qualification. My core motivation was to share this understanding of thought, mind, and body with a wide range of people in the hope that it could impact others’ lives the way it has mine.  

I completed my 200-hour qualification with the wonderful teachers Sophia Senior and Nichi Green in 2022, and I began teaching evening classes around my full-time job as a science journalist. In 2025 I merged my interests in pregnancy, birth and anatomy and completed an additional qualification in pre and postnatal yoga.  

My classes and workshops blend my interests in yoga asana, philosophy, meditation, breathwork and neuroscience. I like to theme my classes around topics that we can explore through this varied “yoga toolbox”. I also enjoy tailoring classes to whoever is in the room that day and offering lots of modifications. I always try to emphasise to my students that, for me, yoga is not about creating a particular shape with your body. Nor is it about how flexible you are or can become. There is no judgement in my classes. I care about the experience you have in your body. If you find that a pose doesn't feel accessible for you, no drama llama. Let’s take a moment to pause, notice the mind’s reaction and move our bodies in another way from that place of awareness and safety.  

I’m so grateful that my interpretation of yoga has resonated with the community. Sharing yoga has truly become one of my greatest joys in life and I am so grateful that I have forged some wonderful friendships with the friendly faces that attend my classes. 

I doubt I will ever feel as though I am truly a “teacher of yoga”; rather, I think I will always feel like a student of this wonderful practice. That is so exciting to me, because it means that the learning is never over. There is still so much more for me to explore and comprehend that will no doubt shape my approach as a teacher in the future.  

For now, I’ll say thank you to those of you that have joined me on the journey so far. If you have any questions about my classes, my experience of learning to teach yoga, or any of the interest I have described above, please do reach out for a chat.