I came to yoga in my early twenties, before having children—physically active and with a body that worked well. I was probably a natural fit for the industry. I loved to dance, loved to move. And yet, it has still been a process of untangling the body image narrative. I stumbled into practicing yoga through dance. My dance teacher would begin our classes with Sun Salutations. From the very beginning, teachers commented on my body’s natural ability. At the time, I didn’t think much of it.
Asana—the yoga poses—are just one-eighth of the yoga practice. However, it was the only part I understood and believed mattered most. I thought that if I could do the poses well, then I was “good” at yoga. This belief pushed me to practice harder, longer, bigger, always chasing the next pose. My physical body thrived on the challenge, but I was missing a significant part of the practice.
When I became pregnant with my first child, my practice shifted. I found myself in prenatal yoga classes, where the poses were gentler—nothing like what I had been doing before. But something about those classes helped me focus on caring for the tiny human I was growing. It wasn’t about achieving; it was about softening, about connection. Something began to change.
Postpartum with each child brought new lessons. I remember feeling as if my body didn’t belong to me anymore. The front of my body felt completely disconnected from the back, and I wondered if they would ever feel whole again. Then one day in a yoga class, I had a moment that was equal parts relief and shock—I could feel my body coming back together. It wasn’t a visible change but more of a deep connection to my body, mind, and sense of self. I felt embodied.
By the time I had my third child—this time as “high risk” (as the doctors reminded me)—things felt different. I was different. I was teaching, practicing, and spending hours in hot, sweaty yoga rooms, desperate to peel off the leggings and sports bras by the end of the day. I returned to teaching just 10 days after giving birth. I pushed through exhaustion and ignored my body’s cries for rest and recovery.
The voices were relentless—the image and perception of what a yoga teacher “should” look like. Fill in the blanks with judgments: thin, toned, flexible, ideal. The image of the “yoga body” was loud, stifling, and full of assumptions. The narrative of being strong enough to push through, to show up, to do the work. Where these narratives came from mattered less to me than the realization that they no longer fit. Practice had led me to profound awakenings in my being. I had discovered my voice in a way that felt freeing, giving me confidence in myself. I no longer felt the need to conform or judge.
Over the past 20 years, the yoga industry has heavily leaned into the image of a “yoga body.” This narrative influences everything from how studios hire and how yoga teachers promote themselves to how brands use imagery in marketing. Social media has further amplified its reach, affecting who gets to teach, how classes are assigned, the availability of class time slots, and even how teachers are compensated. The impact of this narrative runs deep.
I’ve had to untangle myself from these narratives over the years. Yoga has been my anchor, but not always in the ways I expected. It has shown me the gap between what we perceive and what’s true. It has taught me to inhabit my body as it is: sometimes strong, sometimes exhausted, and everything in between—always worthy.
Yoga isn’t about looking a certain way or performing. It’s about showing up, peeling back the layers of judgment, and finding compassion—for myself and for the voices that still echo in my mind. As the owner of a yoga studio, it is key for me to uphold this truth in how we operate. The images we use in marketing reflect real bodies, not curated ideals. Our teachers lead not because they look a certain way but because of the profound impact yoga has had on their lives. The heart of yoga lies in connection, not comparison—and that’s what I hope to nurture in every person who steps into our studio.
Yoga has been a journey of rediscovery for me, one that continues every day. It’s not about mastering poses but about meeting myself where I am—with honesty, patience, and love. And that’s the kind of practice I hope to inspire in others.
–Alison Adams
