I finished teaching my live online yoga session and was in the process of uploading my vinyasa class to my video library. I was feeling pretty good about this particular class; the warm-up was welcoming, I was creative and thoughtful with the transitions, the energetic heat-up included some challenging poses, and the gentle restorative-like cool down tied it all up with a sweet little bow. I felt wonderful and the feedback from the students who joined me live was that they did too. “I’m teaching yoga online and this is working!” I thought. That feeling of blissful accomplishment extinguished as soon as the video started to roll. I looked at my screen and my self-conscious, dark, inner voice whispered, “You look fat.” It was such a hurtful thought that I actually cringed. I would never say such an ugly thing to anyone, usually including myself, but the dark voice is strong and loud. I’m a size 8/10 which, according to statistics, is below the average for a woman my age, but I looked again and thought my belly was huge and jiggly. I skipped ahead and saw that my alignment was off on those warriors and I discovered in the closing sequence that I, apparently, had three chins. UGH. I couldn’t possibly post that video.
I would consider myself a body positive advocate. I truly and honestly believe that yoga is for everyone, not just fit, toned, able-bodied, white, cisgender, women in their 20’s. When I had in-person classes at my yoga studio there was a sense of acceptance in the room. Students of all ages, genders, abilities, and sizes helped to create one of the most welcoming communities that I had ever been a part of. We all landed on our mats together to flow, breathe, and heal as a collective group. We laughed at the challenging poses and we fell out of our standing balances together. We shared that soothing sigh when we moved into savasana and we felt good. I felt good. I felt good as a teacher, as a student and about my body. Were there students in class that were more toned than me? Yes. Were there students who were stronger than me? Yup. Were there students who were more flexible? Oh, hell yeah. But I still felt good. I had something to offer, and I had value as a teacher.
So, what’s changed now that I’ve moved to my virtual studio? When I was teaching in my studio my focus and attention was on the students. I would demonstrate a complicated pose or flow next to someone in the occasional vinyasa, but, for the most part, as teachers we spend a lot of time moving around the room. We encourage our students with our voices or with a hands-on adjustment. We watch the students. We feel the vibes of the class. We adjust, we play, we laugh, we are with you. I wasn’t looking in the mirror at my tummy. I was concentrating on my students’ alignments and experience. I was not focusing on that flabby bit under my upper arms. The massive change that was forced by the virtual yoga setting is that now my focus is on me and not on my students. My attention is now on my body and the yoga poses that I am doing. It feels like The Tanya Show and I really hate that. I didn’t want to be an actress and I didn’t see myself as a yoga teacher on screen. On camera my wobbly bits are on full display. In the video we warmed up with sun salutations and my belly protruded even though I was engaging my core. That old pal, Double Chin, said hello when I bowed my head and my arms looked weird when I interlaced my hands behind my back. My legs weren’t perfect in chaturanga and I didn’t go as far as I wanted to in my hanumanasana. The sit-up sequence? Oh my belly jelly goodness. UGH. Who’ll want to practice with a teacher like this?
I had a cry. I put away my yoga mat; the friend that kept me from falling to pieces during the pandemic and quarantine. I didn’t look in the mirror. I felt bad about myself. To top it all off I felt like a big fat phoney because I was always promoting body positivity and acceptance to my students and now look at what I was saying to myself. Way to be authentic, Tanya.
I never thought about not being fit enough to teach yoga. Ever. I know myself and I know that I can teach. I know that I can explain poses and transitions in a clear way, and I know that I can incorporate humor to motivate my students. My passion for yoga IS authentic and I know the students feel it. I taught handstands even though I couldn’t (and still can’t) do them without the wall or another person to assist. The thing is I know how to teach them. I can warm up the shoulders, core and legs and move you through an intelligent sequence to get you to a handstand if that is where your practice is that day. And if you’re not fully there, like me, there are lots of ways to modify the stages of that giant pose. I help you to build your confidence and show you how to create the class that you need. All that comes down to is that I think I am a good teacher. I really believe that you don’t have to be the strongest, most flexible person in the class to teach and you definitely don’t need to do a handstand. You don’t need to be a size 2 to be a great teacher and you definitely don’t need a six pack. I really believed that…until that damn video.
Brilliant ideas started spinning around my zen, yogi master mind like “maybe I should starve myself” or this beauty, “maybe I can teach in Spanx.” Maybe, I thought, I can come up with an audio-only, yoga focused app and have conversations with other interesting yoga people instead of doing an actual class. Then I had a moment of clarity and remembered the following: (1) Yoga Podcasts already exist and creating one is not a current goal of mine, (2) Teaching yoga is my passion and brings me so much joy and I never want to give that up, (3) I love to eat and having access to fresh, healthy food is a gift and privilege that should not be taken for granted, and (4) I am Not. Fucking. Teaching. In. Spanx.
So how did I climb out of the trench of self loathing? I took a breath and posted that video. I reminded myself that I have value. I realised that most students and teachers feel some level of apprehension when it comes to their bodies. And look, most people have a little tummy bump when they forward fold. A lot of us have that double chin when we bow our heads. You realise that you’re not alone and that helps in the healing. Social media for yoga teachers is a wonderful marketing tool to get your name and practice out to the world, but there’s a sense of control over what we post. I used to pick my favorite pictures where I thought I looked strong and flexible, but a video captures every uneven posture and shaky muscle. I began to post pictures that weren’t “perfect”. I shared my reality of still learning and playing and promoting that yoga is a journey; we’re all beginners in some way. Another way that I work on body acceptance is by showing up on my mat. I practice with my students. I chat with them before and after class, and we share smiles and words of encouragement. It’s absolutely not the same feeling that you would receive in an in-person group class, but I do feel connected to them and I feel their support. What I’m working on now is fully accepting that support and love. I meditate on acceptance and letting go of the pressure to have the perfect instagrammable yoga body. I take walks outside to clear my head. My mat is my sanctuary but it’s nice to get out in nature and brush away the cobwebs that accumulate with teaching and studying online. I cherish my private one-on-one clients and get to change the channel on The Tanya Show and return my attention to them by spotlighting their screens and discussing their own personal needs. I repeat the following mantra in my mind that I so often tell my students, “It’s yoga practice, not yoga perfect.” I’m not quite there yet with being completely in love with my buddha belly, but I’m working on it. One breath at a time.
True yoga is not about the shape of your body, but the shape of your life. Yoga is not to be performed; yoga is to be lived. Yoga doesn’t care about what you have been; yoga cares about the person you are becoming. Yoga is designed for a vast and profound purpose, and for it to be truly called yoga, its essence must be embodied.
– Aadil Palkhivala
