By Kierstin Graham, Guest Contributor
“Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out.” These were the words I repeated to myself before teaching yoga classes. Initially, having an eating disorder kept me away from practicing yoga, and then once I did start, the yoga studios I went to focused on fitness and diets, which fed into my obsessive eating disorder behaviors and thoughts.
I have some fear around writing this. Since yoga practice is an exploration of self-knowledge, I think it’s easy for studios to write these words off as just my experience. Though it may be my experience, I think others who have experienced discomfort in these spaces may be able to relate. Yoga studios are not safe for everyone in recovery, and it’s time we talk about it.
My Nana was a yoga instructor, so growing up I was very familiar with taking deep breaths, connecting to the earth by standing in the dirt, and balancing like a tree. Though I believe I enjoyed this practice as a child, as I grew up I felt a disdain for the practice. I would disguise my dislike, convincing myself yoga was just “too boring,” but the truth was I didn’t want to notice anything about my body. This avoidance lasted until I was in college and had changed my mind about my degree of study for the 100th time.
I had always known exactly what I wanted to do, which is support others. But every time I dove into a degree plan, the career field just didn’t seem right. I took a break and went to visit my Nana in Florida. She was still teaching and practicing yoga and welcomed me to join her classes. I do not know what made me say yes to going, and I will never understand what changed, but I enjoyed every second of the class I attended with her. When I laid in Savasana for the first time in a long time, I had an intuitive feeling that everything was going to be okay; I had never felt more at peace. As soon as Savasana ended, I knew I wanted to support others by teaching yoga. As soon as I got back home, I applied for a scholarship to a local studio’s 200-hour teacher training and dove in.
Although I enjoyed learning, walking into the studio was always a challenge for me. I felt a wave of anxiety and constantly feared I did not fit the “yoga body” stereotype. This space was full of instructors asking everyone to push themselves, because that’s what these kinds of yoga classes were about—working out. I watched students be told they should honor and listen to their body, and as those words were leaving the instructor’s mouth, they would physically adjust someone into what they thought that participants body needed. This made me feel uncomfortable.
Throughout my 200-hour training I asked myself many times, if I’m training to teach and I feel this uncomfortable in this space, then how many students feel the same? After my training, I opted out of auditioning to teach for the studio and explored where else I could teach. My first class was at a petting zoo with goats. I taught at parks, in schools, on patios of restaurants, and any space that would have me. Eventually I realized I had to add in teaching studio classes to financially support myself.
Up to this point, I ignored how my eating disorder interfered with my life and dreams. I didn’t understand how harmful my relationship with food was to myself, because it was all I knew. When I started working at studios, I would spend my time in between my classes taking other instructors’ classes, pushing myself hard and hoping to not pass out. Then, I would go off and teach my classes, where I would share the Yoga Sutras, theme my classes around the 8 limbs of yoga, always offer encouraging words, and remind the students to be gentle with themselves. I would emphasize that yoga wasn’t about what the practice looked like, but how supportive it felt. And yet I couldn’t even look in the mirror.
I finally accepted help and spent time in treatment. Though that was the first step in my recovery, the struggle was far from over. Doctors, psychologists, and psychiatrists typically encourage mindfulness activities like yoga to support the recovery process, however not all classes or spaces are the same or safe for those in eating disorder recovery, especially in the early phases.
I worked at multiple studios, loved the individuals who taught, and the wide range of classes offered, and even with all of that being said, unfortunately yoga at a studio space was not helpful or needed during my recovery. This practice of self- study would somehow turn into a competition of flexibility and strength. It wasn’t healing to hear about the newest fad detox diet, or to watch individuals be praised for over exercising. The studio was full of students whispering about all the classes they would have to take to work off last night’s dinner, and instructors helping them sign up for the class that would serve as the “best punishment.” Body neutrality was nearly impossible to work toward with full body length mirrors surrounding me. Can you see how this environment might not be the best for recovery?
Every morning I would go to treatment and take a step forward, and every time I stepped back into a yoga studio I took two steps back. Nonetheless, with it being my income and all I had known the past few years, I couldn’t let it go. I would spend my mornings and early afternoons in treatment, and my evenings triggering myself as I went to teach. This is not the studio’s fault, not entirely at least. Nor was it just the studios I worked at.
The practice of Yoga is connecting mind, body, and spirit—but a yoga studio is a business and they push what sells. The community and asana aspects of yoga are the two big pieces all studios focus on; it’s what brings students, and at the same time can be isolating and turns away many as well. For example, instructors were taught to call out individuals by name to connect, but no one thought about the disconnect and competition that could be instilling in other students. The “listen to your body” and “find what works best for you” would be drowned out by comments from instructors like, “Beautiful pose, Brian” or “I know you can push harder, Kylie.” These mixed messages were sent out, but it was the student’s job to stay connected to what the practice was truly about, stripping any responsibility from those of us who chose to be guides. If someone felt excluded or uncomfortable at the studio, they just weren’t an “advanced practitioner.”
All of my studio owners knew I was in treatment, and said they supported me. However, these spaces did what was popular: from having weight loss competitions for the students to encouraging and praising the students who showed up for 2+ classes a day. If these things were triggering to me, how many other people were also negatively affected?
Studios may offer peace, support, and relaxation for some, but that is not the case for all. As someone who was actively going through eating disorder recovery, the last thing I wanted to do was spend every second in the yoga studio (not just during my practice) focusing on my body and what it was or was not capable of. There was nothing relaxing or supportive about staring at myself in a mirror so I could contort my body to look just right. Though as a guide, I knew and encouraged others to not focus on how they looked, I felt like I had to strive to make everything look perfect to prove I was worthy of being an instructor.
Luckily now there are many ways to connect to the practice outside of these spaces, and equally as important, with people who specialize in teaching classes for those who experience(ed) trauma and/or eating disorders. In my opinion, it is extremely important for therapy and recovery spaces to have someone who specializes in mindful movement for recovery. It is important to offer this in a space where those in recovery are able to process with a professional if anything comes up.
Here’s how I like to explore mindful movement in my life and recovery:
Self-guided movement
The free virtual yoga practices offered by Yoga for Eating Disorders
Working one-one with someone who is certified as a trauma informed guide and/or a certified yoga therapist who specializes in working with eating disorders
If you are currently in recovery, I encourage you to explore why you want to practice yoga and have this list handy when you are exploring the wide range of guides and places where you can practice. Not all yoga offerings are the same nor are those who guide it. That is one of the beautiful things about this practice (and why you don’t have to accept a space or guide who won’t support you in connecting to the things on your list), if a space or guide isn’t a good fit for you there are others!
Yoga studios don’t have to be off limits; however, I encourage you to visit the space and get to know their instructors before committing to a class. When finding a practice, space, and/or guide for you, I invite you to not only listen to the words of these guides, but also watch their actions, and the theme of the space. Remember, you can choose where you practice yoga and seek out spaces that feel supportive to your recovery journey.
