My Story - Part 3 - Coming Home to Myself

Part 3 

Eventually, I came back.
To my hometown.
To my family.
To familiar streets and faces that hadn’t changed—though I had.

But even surrounded by love, I still felt lost.
Still aching for something I couldn’t name.
Still searching for love—outside of myself.

The healing didn’t begin in one big moment.
It came in quiet choices.
Like unrolling my yoga mat in the morning sun.
Showing up for myself, breath by breath.

Yoga wove itself through my days—
not just as a practice, but as a joyful rhythm.
A way to connect to my body.
To my voice.
To the parts of me I had long ignored.

And with time, I stopped waiting to be saved.
I chose to honour me—
my values, my voice, even the messy parts I once tried to hide.

Teaching became a mirror.
In supporting others to find their strength, I uncovered my own.
I learned to listen deeply.
To lead with presence.
And to finally, fully, come home to myself.