I didn’t grow up dreaming of becoming a yoga teacher.

And I didn’t love yoga right from the start. I was introduced to it in my early 20s and honestly, I felt zero joy in practicing it at that time. I remember it felt boring and very static and soon I decided it’s not for me and kept joining my good old Tae Bo and spinning classes; I guess it was all about action and intensity at that period of my life.

The Journey of Struggles

Years later, I moved countries and began a long journey of struggles: adapting myself to a new culture, learning a new language, feeling alien most of the time, lacking friends and social life, building and, soon after, losing a business.

And then, becoming a mom. And this changed everything.

There is something about a child that makes you question everything. That puts a huge mirror in front of yourself and shows you all your patterns, and programs you’ve being carrying unconsciously.

I was this always tired, over functioning mom, perfectionist to exhaustion, snapping at every little bump along the way. From the outside my life looked rich. And it was. My inner life? Not quite.

I looked strong, but I was tight.
I was capable, but I was tired in a way no amount of sleep could have fixed.

I was living in this small town on the shores of Turkish Mediterranean where nothing interesting ever happened. And, to my surprise, learning there’s a yoga teacher in town, I decided to give yoga one more try.

Finding My Sacred “Me Time”

And guess what? We clicked right away. It felt sooo good, to have a full hour just for myself, to not think about changing diapers, prepping the meal or breathing through a tantrum. Instead, I was just thinking about where to place my foot, how to stretch my arm or how to inhale through the nose and exhale through the mouth. It was a bless.

So, everything began as movement. As something physical.

But soon I realized it was not just stretching my body or learning how to do bridge pose. It was challenging my pace. On the mat, I could not control everything. I could not multitask; I could not rush.

And it was uncomfortable. Oh boy.

But I kept going, it was my sacred “me time” 3 times a week. And soon I realized my body was changing, I was stronger and stronger (well, my dear teacher was into power vinyasa yoga), more mobile; but also in a subtle quiet way, I started to realize I was less snappy at home, I felt calmer, I was able to sit with myself without distractions like TV, or music, or the company of someone else. And I thought, hmmm, this feels different, it feels nice.

And it started to develop into mindful conversations with my teacher after class, I remember we were sharing bits of life and experiences, and feelings. I was able to express myself quite easily and then taking this further forward, understanding myself in a new, kinder, more friendly way. And it felt great. Like I’ve gained a new friend. And that friend was myself.

The Evolution to Teaching

And from here things just evolved naturally and 2 years later I was encouraged to take a Teacher Training.

And I was like: “nooo, I would never be a teacher; probably the last job I would take, no no no. ☺

And my teacher said; “well, when was the last time you did something for yourself and your self-development? you take it for yourself, it’s just a way to deepen your practice and learn more about Yoga, since you like it so much”

And I decided to say yes to it and it opened a door to a complete new world for me.

But this is another beautiful story that I will leave for another post.

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If I would summarize, what I want to say is:

1. There is a specific kind of maturity that comes when you rebuild parts of your life from scratch
2. Yoga did not save me. But it brought me back to myself and it stabilized me.
3. Yoga gave me something that was not moving when everything else was moving.
4. And over time, I gained a devotion rather than a performance. And I gained alignment rather than achievement.

My practice and my teaching and Glowra were all born from this evolution. Not from a trend, not from branding. From understanding that we are not broken.

We are overstimulated, over-responsible, over-functioning. And we don’t need fixing always. We need space. And we need practices intelligent enough to hold both strength and softness in the same body.

If you are here, reading this, maybe you are not looking for extreme transformation. Maybe you are looking for steadiness, and a place to feel like home in your body again.

And I’m very glad we found each other.