Rules were the foundation of my life for many, many years.  From school, to sports I played, jobs I had and those just expected by society, rules offered routines and structure that I thought meant being safe and in control. That’s probably why I didn’t think there was anything wrong with all the rules I created to support my eating disorder. When I could eat, what I could eat, how often I would exercise, even when I allowed myself to rest; these self-imposed rules were just how I made sure I remained disapplied and “good”. When I stuck to my rules I thought I was being good and it showed I was in control.   It was only when I started practicing yoga and realised that having strict rules and living a life that didn’t allow for fluidity and flexibility was pretty confining.  And with that realisation things started to shift.  Slowly, my “black or white” mindset started to change, the “either/or” options became “and/both” and I began to question whether all the rules I had were keeping me safe of whether they were keeping me stuck. 

Now, after nine years of yoga practice, I can see they were definitely keeping me stuck.  Instead of having rules and routines to structure my day yoga has taught me to tune into what my body and soul needs on a day-to-day basis; because yes!  things do change on a daily basis!   I know I don’t have to earn rest or food, and I certainly don’t have to justify not wanting to exercise.    In fact, the only rule I have when it comes to my life as a yogi is that if I ever start to see yoga as a form of exercise or find myself bodychecking on my mat, then I stop.  It has happened throughout my recovery journey, and the stops have always been temporary pauses to allow me to delve deeper into what’s really going on.  Because for me, yoga isn’t a form of exercise; it is very much a way of life, one which is much more satisfying that the one I lived with anorexia.

My Introduction to Yoga

Let me take you back in time.  In June 2015 I bought my first Fitbit.  I’d been living a “mostly recovered” life for about 7 years and having gained some weight after 2 neck surgeries to repair herniated discs I thought it would be a good way to help motivate me to get back to being active.  I wish I’d known then what a mistake that was and how it would begin an unhealthy obsession with tracking numbers and exercise.  But that’s a whole other story.  By January 2016 counting my steps and exercise minutes had taken over my life.  I worked as a store manager in Primark so was on my feet most of the time anyway, but on top of that I went to the gym 3 times per day (before work, after work and on my lunch break) and by May 2016, I knew I was in real trouble so finally had the courage to reach out to my GP and ask for help.

Asking for help and starting therapy was a big challenge, the anxiety of changing my behaviours and reducing my steps felt too overwhelming, but in December 2016 I slipped as I walked into work on Christmas eve and tore my ACL.  As terrible as that was, it was a key turning point in breaking the addiction and learning to slow down (and eventually stopping long enough to see what being still really feels like).  While I waited for and then recovered from surgery I couldn’t work, I couldn’t exercise and luckily, I had a therapist who was a yogi and was thoughtful enough to start talking about some aspects on yoga in our sessions, even though many of the conversations started with “this might sound a bit hippie…”

As I was still recovering from surgery, my initial interest was through yoga philosophy.  My therapist suggested the book “Eastern Body, Western Mind” by Anodea Judith and from the moment I started reading it I knew that I’d found the missing link in my recovery.  I’ve written more about this and how learning to balance my chakra has been part of my recovery separately and if you are interested in reading about that, it’s available here.

As I began implementing what I learned in that book into my life, I noticed a gradual shift in the way I related to myself and my recovery. I became increasingly curious about Eastern philosophies, mindfulness practices, and the role of gratitude in everyday life. These practices helped me feel more connected to myself and offered a new understanding of healing—one that extended beyond physical recovery.  My therapist and I started talking about things on a more spiritual level and I yearned to see whether physically practicing could make me feel as connected to myself as the philosophies did; the idea that healing mind-body-spirit together to guide my recovery journey was ignited.  But I was afraid.  I’d always viewed exercise as something I had to do to “earn” food or rest and to give me a sense of achievement, I wasn’t convinced the connection could be maintained when the physical practice was introduced.  I’m so glad I didn’t allow that fear to hold me back.

Once my knee was healed enough for me to go back to the gym, instead of jumping straight back into cardio classes, I booked a yoga class.  Stepping onto the mat that day was a profound moment in my life, it was the beginning of healing my relationship with movement and exercise.  That was back in September 2017 and stepping on that mat didn’t just change my relationship with my body, movement and exercise - it has completely changed how I live my life. 

My yoga practice doesn’t just comprise of the physical practice (asana); when I say I live my yoga, it is because I have incorporated all I’ve learned from the philosophies into my life.  Things like meditating, journalling, letting the yamas and niyamas guide my decisions and practicing gratitude as frequently as I can have led to a sense of enlightenment and connection to a power that feels much bigger than me. I am the strange woman you might see hugging a tree or dancing around bare foot in the park, because I am connecting to the energy around me.  But that connection isn’t possible when I’m stuck in my head thinking about my body, weight or exercise, and that is something I remind myself off each and every day.  Anorexia comes with a price that I’m no longer willing to pay.

When it comes to physical practice I do have some guidelines I like to follow.  They are:

1. Set my Sankalpa (Intention) for the practice.  In the beginning of my recovery this was acceptance of my body, nowadays it is more about appreciating what my body allows me to do.

2. Notice my energy level.  Because my energy level will guide what way I choose to move on my mat and for how long.  Some days I might do a full one-hour vinyasa practice whereas on others I might do a shorter yin or restorative class.  In fact, there are days when my physical practice looks like 15 minutes lying in Savasana (rest).  Yoga is about consistency, not about the type or time spent on the mat.

3. Start with my breath.  Before I start moving, I’ll turn my attention to the depth of my breath as it is a good indicator of how stressed or anxious I am.  Then I’ll do some breath-work (pranayama) to regulate.  Sometimes this might be something uplifting like alternate nostril breathing, other times it might be something to regulate my nervous system like extending my exhale and on other days it might be just counting my inhales and exhales.  Taking time like this before moving allows for a deeper level of connection and more introspection as I begin to move.

4. Listen to my body.  Every posture in yoga is an invitation to listen to your body and meet your own needs.  Forget the “perfect poses” you see on Instagram, for most of us they aren’t ever going to be obtainable, which is why we have so many alternatives and options when it comes to teaching.  If you move into a posture and it feels too much, give yourself permission to come back out.  Use prompts and support if you want to; it’s not a sign of failure; it’s a clear way to show you are taking care of your body.  It is very rare for me to practice without props, even when I’m travelling abroad!

5. Indulge in Savasana.  When I first started practicing, the last 10 minutes of a class when we were lying in stillness was so hard; trying to switch off my mind felt impossible and the frustration I felt about that often undid a lot of the progress I’d made on my mat.  Nowadays, I look forward to that time of quiet contemplation at the end of practice.  I see it as a time to download all the awareness and emotion that the practice has released so that I can pause and choose what I do next rather than react to those experiences. 

I’ve learned so many important lessons from yoga over the years, but the one that feels most important is that nothing is permanent.  Yes, I’ve had some horrible life experiences, but I survived them all.  Injuries happen, unpleasant emotions arise, relationships change or end, the reality is that we all live in a state of flux and yoga has taught me that accepting all experiences, whether pleasant or unpleasant, rather than resisting them means we adapt more quickly and with less discomfort or suffering.

Yoga has taught me the power of self-acceptance.  It has taught me that my needs matter.  That rest is necessary and a basic human right, not something that has to be earned.  Yoga has changed my inner narrative; the inner critic has been replaced by an inner voice of curiosity – when I have a “but what if” thought pop into my head, I immediate respond with “but what if it doesn’t….”  and this change has really helped reduce my anxious thoughts.

Yoga changed my relationship with my body, not because it’s physically changed, but in the way I perceive and treat it.  In fact, I’m in awe that after so many years of abusing it, my body still allows me to live the privileged life I do. For so many years my focus was on what my body looked like rather than what it allowed me to do.  Now I see my body is just a part of me, basically it’s the vehicle for my soul in this lifetime.

When I was in my 20’s, one of my cousins told me that when I was well enough (yep, you guessed it, I was unwell with anorexia at the time) I should try yoga because she thought I would really like it.  She practiced yoga regularly and as she talked about it being slow and calming, I remember wondering why I would want to waste my time on some strange bending when I could be running or doing cardio at the gym.  Why would I want to slow down when I was always going at 100mph?  With hindsight, I can see if I had listened to her at that time, I may not have lost so many more years to my eating disorder.  That is why I’m sharing this story.

This is my story and every yogi and yoga student out there will have their own.  But it feels important for me to share first hand, why yoga has helped me to recover.  The self-compassion, the acceptance, the resilience, the letting go of perfection and just being able to “go with the flow” is such a far cry from the life I lived trapped in anorexia.  Because yes, that’s exactly what I was; trapped.  Today I feel free.  I can do things spontaneously, allow myself to have fun and live a life full of excitement and change while still feeling calm and emotionally regulated.  If you are even a little bit curious about trying yoga, whether through mindfulness and philosophy or through physical practice, I encourage you to check out some of the resources on this website or drop me an email.  I’m always happy to talk “yoga” with anyone who is interested enough to listen!