It’s both a challenge and a privilege to work in a field where my livelihood depends on how committed people are to themselves.

So often I hear, “I really love your classes, I feel so great afterwards, but it’s so hard to get here.”

And the truth is, I can’t do that part for you. You have to show up.

All I can do is make the classes fun, effective, and engaging enough that you want to keep coming.

It’s a delicate balance, inspiring people to stay committed without shaming them when they can’t be.

I’m always aware of the tension between “stay consistent” and “listen to your body.”

I never want anyone to feel guilted into coming to class. Life can be a lot. I get that. I have autism and ADHD, and I’m a solo parent. I know how full and unpredictable life can be.

And we also want to go out and enjoy life, especially if your kids are older or you’re at a stage where you can finally prioritise yourself. You want to travel and take trips, (especially hiking trips!) After all, the purpose of getting strong is to enjoy life more.

That’s why I’ve done my best to design a payment and booking system that rewards consistency while allowing for flexibility.

If you message me and let me know you can’t make it, you’ll always be met with compassion and understanding. I respect honesty, communication, and self-awareness deeply.

However, I’m also running a business built around small class numbers, personal attention, and community. For this to work, I rely on people showing up regularly.

My business isn’t sustainable when there’s an influx of people one week and half-empty classes the next.

I also don’t want a huge number of people on my books. I want to know everyone, remember who you are, and what your body needs. I’d rather have a small, committed community than a revolving door of drop-ins I barely see.

This model only works when people commit, ideally at least once a week, and stay consistent as much as possible.

I can’t run a “just when you feel like it” fitness studio at this scale.

Ultimately, it’s up to the Motueka community to decide whether this kind of space matters enough to commit to.

And to be completely honest, (because I don’t want anyone wasting their time), strength training isn’t something to dip in and out of. You won’t see real benefits unless you show up regularly. It’s like brushing your teeth, something that deserves to be a high priority. If you skip it, it’ll cost you later. The same is true of your body: without consistent strength training, it won’t be resilient enough to support you as you age.

Those of you who commit weekly, or twice weekly, and pay for your class whether or not you make it, you are absolute gold. You make it possible for this studio to exist, and right now you’re literally covering the rent. I appreciate you deeply.

At the moment, I’m still open to new clients. You can try a class before you commit for just $20. A lot of people have said that it’s a bargain. The first session is often more like personal training because of how much attention I give each person. 

​This offer is only available for a short time though. There will come a point soon when classes are full and spaces will be reserved only for those who are genuinely committed.

​I’ve had a lot of people sign up with me recently, and then disappear. I know a few are sick, some are injured. But if I’m honest, my sense is that for many, this just hasn’t become a true priority yet. Even though you’ve paid for classes, you haven’t made the commitment to yourself to show up.

I get it. Life is full, and there’s a lot to juggle in a day.

But here’s my perspective:

I’ve been a solo parent since my daughter, who’s almost 12 now, was born. I’m not a solo parent who gets weekends off or holidays. I don’t have shared care with her dad, he doesn’t even live in the country.

I know how easy it is to put yourself at the very bottom of the list. For a long time, that’s exactly what I did.

When she was two, I started teaching yoga and soon after, my intuitive healing practice. I showed up for everyone else first. I poured myself into supporting others, and into being the best “gentle,” “aware,” and “natural” parent I could be. But underneath, I was running on empty. I got sick often, I neglected myself, and I didn’t realise how badly I needed to take care of me.

Eventually I burned out. I took a few years off to travel the country and live a more relaxed, nomadic lifestyle. But even then, I felt depleted. Being the only one caring for my daughter, road-schooling her and meeting all of her needs meant I never truly recharged. I had zero time for myself.

When we finally settled here in Tasman, I spent months recovering. But I was still neglecting myself. I let my daughter’s needs and home schooling commitments take priority over my own.

I remember the day I bought the gym back in Māpua. I tried to do a workout and my daughter wouldn’t stop interrupting me. I was in tears every day for the first couple of months, trying to get her to understand that I needed time for me.

It wasn’t until she went back to school at the beginning of 2024 that I finally decided to put myself first. I made a fierce commitment: my workouts would come first. Not because they matter more than my daughter or my clients, but because without looking after myself, I can’t show up for anyone else.

I haven’t missed a workout since.

It might sound small, but it was life-changing. I recharged. I got stronger. I saw results. My confidence and resilience soared. And I finally stopped abandoning myself in all areas of life.

Eventually my daughter accepted that I needed time for myself. She noticed I was a better parent when I made that time, and she started becoming more independent, enjoying her own space, too.

Now, my heavy lifting workouts go into my calendar before anything else. I fiercely protect them. They are scheduled before my classes, clients or any other commitments. They are non-negotiable. My mornings begin with meditation, morning pages, a short run, and mobility work. I make time for yoga every day (sometimes it’s an hour, sometimes it’s 10 minutes, but I don’t skip it). I do this because my health, strength, and nervous system are the foundation for everything else in my life.

I do a lot. I wake at 5:30 am. I own a business. I’m the only one financially supporting myself and my daughter. I teach classes, work with clients, and i’m training for my second ultramarathon. I handle all the childcare, cooking, cleaning, after-school activities. I have nobody to rely on but myself. And I’m highly sensitive, so I’m constantly absorbing the energy of those around me. I have a spiritual practice and I do a lot of inner work on myself so that I’m not overwhelmed by everyone else’s energy.

But out of all the things I do, my absolute priority is my own health, strength and wellbeing. Because I’ve learned that when these things are at the very top of your list, your capacity for everything else expands.
When everyone else is getting sick, I stay well, because I’m not running on empty.

Prioritising your workouts, your health, your body isn’t selfish. It’s an investment. It’s what will carry you into your 70s, 80s, and 90s with strength and independence. But it’s also what keeps you well right now.

When you don’t prioritise yourself, resentment builds up. You say yes to everyone else and no to yourself. And that resentment is a heavy weight to carry.

If you don’t prioritise yourself, no one else will.

You are the most important person in your life.

​So let this be your reminder: it’s okay to put yourself first. Not just sometimes, but always. It might just be the most important decision you ever make.

On my bathroom mirror growing up was a quote by Henry David Thoreau:

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life.”
— Henry David Thoreau, Walden (1854)


My parents didn’t instill much in me in the way of values, and we never had inspiring chats. But this quote quietly shaped me more than anything else has.
If there’s one thing I feel compelled to do, it’s live a passionate life—being fully present in whatever experience I’m having. I think 80% of health and longevity comes from that. It’s simply deciding that you will not have a mediocre life.

And that is a choice you make over and over again.

I’ve found myself in many soul-destroying situations where I had to choose to quit or leave instead of remaining quietly miserable. At first, it was terrifying to walk away—whether from a job, a group of people that didn’t feel right, or a stagnant living situation. But in my experience, when you say no to what doesn’t serve you, the universe supports you. Especially if it’s a conscious choice. Leave what doesn’t nourish your soul sooner rather than later, and harsh wake-up calls—burnout, crises, or accidents—don’t need to happen.

My experiments with intentional living started after enduring some really difficult experiences. I got married at 19 to a man I met online (the internet only got started when I was 16, so this was VERY early in the online scene). We met on a Smashing Pumpkins IRC chat room. I moved to the US and endured not only an abusive marriage but years of dead-end customer service jobs and no hope of a university education. I actually became suicidal.

My soul was dying. But I used every spare moment to devour books (starting with Thoreau) and read widely on everything I could find—spirituality, philosophy, literature. I gave myself the education I needed.

The first joyful and truly intentional thing I did was, after reading On the Road, quit my job to follow the Smashing Pumpkins around the country. I met Billy Corgan multiple times, and it was our chats (he actually sat down and talked with me) that got me out of a deep dark hole. Billy Corgan is one of the most passionate and inspiring people I’ve ever met. His giving me the time of day (as an obsessed fan) really made me value my life.

Then I came back to New Zealand and spent years doing what I was passionate about. I studied eco-tourism, outdoor recreation, environmental studies, ecology, and permaculture while exploring wild places. I volunteered as a hut warden for DOC, grew my own food, experimented with living money-free, and attended 13 ten-day Vipassana courses.

I had my daughter, explored intentional parenting, lived in intentional communities, house-sat, traveled to South Africa, took a yoga teacher training, opened a yoga studio, learned Theta Healing, ran women’s circles, lived in a van while road-schooling my daughter, and walked Te Araroa. Eventually, I moved to the place that felt most like home (which I recently discovered was where my ancestors first settled in the 1850s).

But living with intention isn’t just about choosing what you say yes to. It’s about creating enough space to actually engage in life fully.

Which is why I do one thing at a time. I focus intensely on the thing (currently, this business) and suck all of the marrow out of it.

And not just focusing, but creating space around your focus.

For example, I have spare time that I could fill with other activities, but I allow space for my passions to flourish. And I tell you, creating that space is hard. Being busy is not a badge of honour—it’s often a trauma response. When we fill all our free time with busyness, we aren’t truly living.

So often, we have to relearn how to be still, to make space, to simply be in the moment—fully present. The stillness side of Embodied Soul is designed to support you in feeling safe in your body, so you can live intentionally and focus on what’s most important to you.

​If you’re curious check out my offerings for Restorative Yoga, Embodied Processing and Intuitive Healing.

The stillness side of Embodied Soul has been slower to develop. At first, I wondered if this meant people didn’t really want it. But the truth is, stillness is simply harder to reach than strength.

Strength has clear pathways, it has a culture that actively explores what works and what doesn’t. In recent years, thanks to researchers like Dr. Stacy Sims, we finally have methods that really work for women. Stillness doesn’t have that kind of roadmap yet. Science is only beginning to understand trauma, nervous system regulation, and emotional integration. Science doesn’t understand the soul. There isn’t a neat formula, often you spend years navigating away from ungrounded teachings, spiritual bypassing, or cult-like modalities that promise so much but deliver so little. There are so many holes to fall into along the way.

And beyond that, stillness itself is difficult. When you pause, all the internal clutter begins to rise. Your busy mind, brain fog, stuck emotions, dissociation, old grief or fear becomes very obvious. It doesn’t feel peaceful at first. It feels exposing, uncomfortable, sometimes overwhelming.

So it makes sense that people hesitate, take their time, or move slowly toward it. And I’ve had to learn to allow that slowness, to stop questioning whether it means stillness isn’t wanted, and instead to trust that people will reach for it when they are ready. Nobody is going to trust me unless I’m ok with allowing each person to come to this work in their own time. And that’s important, because I never want anyone to work with me out of pressure.

Here’s the thing: I’ve been doing the inner work for years. It’s slow. It’s not linear. It works in spirals and layers, and it is infinitely harder than picking up a barbell. Stillness is about facing the inner demons, the grief, the rage, the fear. It’s about drawing on your deepest inner resources and going to the depths of who you are. It’s messy.

And although I love working with people to get stronger on a physical level, I am a deep person, and I require depth in my work. Not offering the stillness aspect would mean holding back a part of myself that yearns to be expressed.


So, what does stillness look like in practice?

I’ve created a few different offerings which are designed as a kind of progression: It starts with Restorative Yoga, which evolves into Group Somatic Healing, and then Group Intuitive Healing. For those that feel called to take it further and delve into advanced energy healing work, there’s also Theta Healing courses.  However, you’ll be drawn to the place that feels right for you to start. Your journey may not follow the format I’ve designed.


🧘‍♀️ Restorative Yoga: A Taste of Safety
Restorative yoga offers a gentle introduction to creating safety in your body. It’s a bridge from active movement to quiet, inward focus. A place to soften, settle, and begin to feel your body again. Hesitation to try restorative yoga is natural. Strength classes boost confidence, make you feel empowered, and expand your capacity to hold physical challenges. Stillness can feel very different: tender, exposing, and very vulnerable for some people.

I don’t embrace this idea of “vulnerability.” While it’s popular in healing circles, I don’t want to encourage you to be vulnerable. Vulnerability implies letting yourself be completely unprotected. That is not the goal. The goal is to build a container of safety first, developing a resource in your body that you can rely on. Only once you have that foundation can you discern when it’s safe to surrender, when it’s safe to feel fully, and when it’s safe to trust.

In Restorative Yoga, you’re simply exploring what it feels like to be safe and supported. You’re not processing trauma yet; you’re grounding into a cocoon of safety and reconnecting with your body.


🌱 Somatic Healing: Building a Reliable Resource
Once you’ve had that initial taste of resourcing through Restorative Yoga, the 5-week somatic healing course is where we really start to build the resource of safety into something reliable. Here, you learn to return to that sense of safety again and again, developing a deep familiarity with your body and nervous system, and an understanding of your emotions and patterns.

This course is experiential: you’ll feel grounded in your resource, begin processing suppressed material, and cultivate the capacity to hold your experiences with confidence. Safety becomes something you truly carry with you, not just a fleeting experience.


🔮 Intuitive Healing: Tuning Into Your Inner Guidance
Once you’re comfortable in your body and with your emotions, it’s time to listen to your intuition. In my 5-week intuitive healing course, you’ll learn to decipher the voices in your head, understand your strongest psychic senses, and connect to a higher truth. It doesn’t matter what name you give it: God, Source, Creator, we’re simply working with the energy of all that is.

This course is also about identifying the roots of your patterns: childhood experiences, ancestral trauma, and other influences, and understanding how they’ve shaped you. You’ll explore why certain situations appear in your life, what you are meant to learn from them, and how these insights help you tap into your higher purpose.

It’s a space to access your own guidance, rather than relying on someone else’s interpretation, and to strengthen your connection to your inner wisdom. This understanding allows you to move through life with greater clarity, purpose, and alignment


✨ Advanced Energy Healing: Recognising Yourself as a Healer
For those ready to take it to the next level, learning Theta Healing® is about recognising the healer within you. You’ll learn to work with energy consciously, access your own inner guidance, and create the life you truly want. You’ll become a certified Theta Healer and start to draw the people you are here to support. 

Theta Healing gives you the tools to transform your own patterns, align with your purpose, and step fully into your potential. It was a magical part of my journey. Even now, before any major life transition (such as creating this business), I book a Theta Healing session for myself. It ensures everything flows smoothly and I don’t get stuck on the small hurdles.


🤝 1:1 Intuitive Sessions: Bringing It All Together
For those who feel stuck, want guidance, or are ready to go deeper, my 1:1 intuitive sessions integrate everything I offer. These sessions help you understand your patterns, like what keeps you from committing to a strength program, or why certain habits and fears keep repeating. We explore inner child work, ancestral healing, trauma processing, and maybe even your life purpose.

These sessions are highly personalised. I work with your energy, your body, and your story to help you identify the blocks holding you back and develop strategies to move forward. This is a space where you can bring all of your experiences together: strength, stillness, intuition, and begin to see the bigger picture of your growth and capacity.

1:1 sessions also have the option of creating a personalised exercise program, and we can offer ongoing sessions and support to help you stick with it.

​
💖 My Take on Stillness
Stillness isn’t about surrendering blindly. It’s not about laying out all of your vulnerability on the table. It’s about slowly building safety, strengthening your capacity to hold the uncomfortable stuff, and discerning when it’s truly safe to open. That container is what allows confidence, clarity, intuition, and stillness to flourish.


📅 Upcoming Offerings:
🧘‍♀️ Restorative Yoga: Fridays & Sundays at 5:15 pm (please book at least 3 hours prior).

🌱 5-week Somatic Healing group: one evening a week (1.5 hr sessions), 5 weeks — $150, 3–5 participants max.

🔮 5-week Intuitive Healing group: alternating with Somatic Healing, same price and format.

✨ Theta Healing® Basic course: 3 days, coming soon.


💜 Message me to register your interest or to learn more.

I am SO grateful to have found this space.

The past couple of years have been difficult for me, emotionally and financially. I made a bad investment, trusted the wrong person, found myself stuck owning a gym in a community that wasn’t supportive of it. 

Instead of walking away from the investment, I trusted my intuition. I knew that the gym in Māpua wasn’t the right thing for me, but there was something magic in the heavy lifting — both for myself and for others.

I knew that the gym was a stepping stone to creating something more aligned. I just didn’t know what it would look like exactly. 

I spent a year keeping the gym afloat out of my own pocket, basically supporting someone else to make a living off of it, while I completed a personal training course and heavy lifting teacher’s program and mentorship. And I used the gym to deepen my own training and learning.

That period of time required a lot of trust that I was on the right track. The personal training course, which I was doing to get my REPS registration, was tough. It was filled with endless assignments and it had a toxic, body shaming tone. 

I had conflicts with the tutors because our views on fitness and body positivity were at odds. It was a course designed by men, for men. There was no mention of women’s training needs being different to men’s or of what women need in peri and post menopause. They told me that if I didn’t focus on training people for aesthetics, I would never get any clients. It took everything I had not to quit. 

I remember being so relieved the day I finally got the certificate.

The very next day I ran a 54 km ultra marathon. 

It was my first ultra (first marathon as well), and I was very nervous. I was worried I’d be the slowest person on the course, coming in after dark. But I knew I had to attempt it, I’d put so much energy into training for it. I surprised myself by finishing in less than 8 hours. It was the most joyful experience ever. An initiation into a new phase of life.

The ultra marathon feeling so easy was a sign that life did not need to be difficult anymore. I’d done the hard work. I’d persevered. I’d trained. I’d studied. All while solo parenting. I’d carried other people and I’d lived off my savings for long enough. It was time to bring some joy, ease and abundance into my life. I’d earned it. 

Completing that ultra marathon created a huge shift in my energy. I felt like I could do anything. I set a strong intention to create something that felt aligned with my soul. I set out to find a place where I could bring together all of my work.

And then, effortlessly, in less than two weeks, I found this place.

Everything flowed, like nothing I’d experienced.

Support arrived exactly when I needed it and my trust in the universe was restored.

Here’s the key though: I had to learn to trust myself first. I had to persevere through lots of hardship, and struggle before I was ready to stop compromising. 

I had to go through the shadows and really feel the pain of carrying everything on my own.

That’s what I needed to get stronger.

And now, I feel like I am carried and I am held. Not by anyone in particular, there’s nobody there in the background to catch me, I don’t have anyone to go home to each night who supports me. But I trust that I’m carried by something far greater. The universe does have my back. 

The universe also knew that giving it to me the easy way wouldn’t have made me so strong and competent. If any of this had come easily, I wouldn’t now feel so capable of holding space for all the people who will be coming to me for empowerment, support and healing. 

Anyway, thank you so much to all my crew from Māpua who have stuck with me through this transition. You are amazing! I would have really struggled without you.

And thanks to all the wonderful, new people who have joined us!

I’m excited to watch this community grow.

I’ve renamed my “Functional Movement, Yoga & Mobility” class to something simpler:
Sustainable Yoga.

What is Sustainable Yoga?
It’s still functional movement, yoga, and mobility — just under a name that feels less clunky.

Really, it’s yoga you’ll still be doing when you’re 90+.

I could’ve called it “modern yoga,” “anatomy-informed yoga,” or “functional yoga.”
But Sustainable Yoga felt right.

This practice:

• Focuses on alignment that makes sense for your body — grounded in biomechanics and a modern understanding of anatomy. (Traditional yoga cues never made sense to me, but these ones do.)
• Stays within functional ranges of motion, prioritising mobility (the intersection of strength, stability, and flexibility) rather than chasing passive flexibility, which can be risky if unsupported.
• Uses movement that prepares your body for everyday life, not just for poses.

There’s less focus on what a pose looks like — we’re not aiming for some fixed endpoint.

It’s about how it feels in your body.

There’s also a fun, creative, playful aspect to this practice — often missing in serious yoga classes.

It’s never about “getting it right.”

We don’t do many traditional yoga poses — no sun salutations or sequences you’ve done a million times, but some familiar shapes are still there, adapted with more purpose.

For example, Ustrasana (camel pose):
In the sustainable version, we use a controlled lean-back from kneeling to strengthen the quads and core. It’s no longer a deep backbend — because really, when will you need that in everyday life?

This approach is intelligently applied. And deeply relevant.

We live in modern bodies, shaped by modern lives. We sit a lot. Even those of us who train regularly are still mostly sedentary. We need movement that counters that — adaptable, consistent, and woven into our daily routines.

The core principles of Sustainable Yoga:
*Boundaries*
Respect your body’s boundaries — we don’t push into extreme ranges of motion without support and readiness.
*Variety & Diversity*
Our brains and nervous systems thrive on novelty — so we explore creative, playful movement variations.
*Frequency*
We need more movement than one yoga class a week. You’ll learn simple movements to integrate into daily life.
*Restore & Support*
Rest and nervous system regulation are key to making movement sustainable — and to feeling well in your body.

But why still call it yoga?

This approach comes from Heart & Bones Yoga, one of the (best) teacher trainings I’ve done.

There were lots of thoughtful conversations in that training — about what yoga means today, and how to honour its roots while allowing for respectful evolution.

Ultimately, yoga is about union.
And that essence is still here.
The heart of yoga is still here.

When we connect to our bodies with kindness — through movement that’s compassionate, functional, and available to all — we are practicing yoga.

Sustainable Yoga is on at Embodied Soul Thursdays at 10am

I didn’t grow up feeling safe in my body.
There was a lot I didn’t understand about my experience back then. But what I know now is that my system was in chronic dysregulation. I was highly sensitive, always anxious, possibly autistic, and constantly overwhelmed by the world around me.


I survived by shutting down — becoming the quiet child in the corner who never spoke.


Fortunately, I didn’t develop harmful coping strategies when I became a teenager — probably because alcohol and drugs weren’t accessible to me (being so withdrawn from others). But I did rely on swimming. I trained for up to 20 hours a week. The water helped regulate me.


Later, I found safety in running and long walks. Eventually, I found yoga and meditation.


Around age 29, I started entering spaces that promised transformation — intense Vipassana meditation retreats, breathwork, energy healing workshops, conscious dance, Access Consciousness. I went to workshops where people processed their emotions with such intensity and drama. You name it, I probably tried it at some point.


I’m a Scorpio, so the allure of transformational spaces was strong. I’d often feel more open after these experiences — moments of clarity, insight, even euphoria. But I’d always crash afterward, overwhelmed by waves of emotion, looping in grief, sadness, anger, and fear.


I couldn’t understand why the transformation didn’t stick. So I worked even harder on myself — thinking I just had to process more, go deeper, heal harder. There were times in my life where I spent all day, every day, on healing.


And while there were profound shifts, there was also a constant sense of urgency. I felt pressure to arrive. To wake up. To reach enlightenment. And shame that I wasn’t already further along. I felt like I should be some kind of spiritual master — if effort equalled results.


But really, I was still avoiding the pain of being alive.


The shift came when I stopped trying to arrive. When I stopped seeking. When I actually gave up on healing — on trying to avoid this world. I stopped pushing and making intensity the goal.


The most profound changes happened when I began learning how to feel safe in my body. When I centred nervous system safety above everything else.


That’s when transformation stopped overwhelming me. Letting the healing process slow down — really slow down — to the point where I stopped seeking transformation at all, was, ironically, the most transformative shift of all.


I don’t seek out euphoric experiences anymore. I do far less spiritual healing. And when I do it, I spend time allowing it to integrate before I move onto something else.


I’m very discerning about the spaces I enter now. Most transformational spaces don’t feel safe to my nervous system. But the subtle shifts I experience now are the most profound.


Over time, I’ve become less reactive. Everything feels less urgent. I don’t over-plan or overthink like I used to. I’m more comfortable just showing up and being present. I do less pushing and more surrendering.


I don’t need big breakthroughs to trust the direction I’m moving in.


The evolution of my healing journey is what has inspired my restorative yoga practice.


While my classes used to be about offering more, doing more, being more of service to people (a reflection of where I was — still not feeling like I was enough), now I prioritise creating the conditions for safety — so the body can become a home.


That means I do a lot less. I’m just here, being present with you, creating a space where you can find safety with yourself.


And I trust you. I deeply trust that when you feel safe, your body will know what to do.


Restorative yoga is not a luxury. I think it’s often viewed as one — especially when people are in survival mode. But creating a safe space for yourself to feel what’s present in your body is not indulgent. It’s necessary.


If my journey resonates, I’m offering Restorative Yoga on Fridays & Sundays at 5:15 pm. 🤍

I once went on a date with a powerlifter.
I told him about my idea to combine yoga and heavy lifting.
He told me to “stay in my lane.”

I checked out of the date then and there and never saw him again.

At one time in my life, a comment like that might’ve made me doubt myself.
But I’ve learned the cost of listening to people like that is a life half-lived.

I’ve never really stayed in one lane.
I’ve always followed what felt good — what ignited a spark in me.

Lately, I’ve been telling people about my new space.
I don’t even get to the intuitive healing part before they pause, trying to figure out how yoga and heavy lifting could possibly go together.

But I’m not teaching conventional yoga.
Yoga didn’t land for me until I brought in mobility and functional movement and until I found teachers who were questioning and redefining everything.

Heavy lifting would’ve felt hollow if I hadn’t brought in self-awareness and emphasised capability, empowerment, and confidence over aesthetics.

Spiritual healing felt too fluffy until I found ways to stay connected to the body.

I’m too grounded for most spiritual spaces.
Too deep for most fitness spaces.

So what do you do when nothing you’re offered really resonates?
You make your own thing.

I’m not doing this to be successful.
I didn’t do market research.
I didn’t ask what Motueka needed.

I’m building what I couldn’t find.

Because I’m done with other people’s boxes.
I’m done with compromising just to belong.

This is the question life keeps asking me:
Will you dilute yourself to be accepted, or stay true to what your soul is calling for, even if no one understands?

These days, I follow what feels light.
What feels alive with a spark of joy.

And the only judgment I get now is subtle.

My intuitive healing friends say, “I just can’t picture you lifting weights.”
My fitness colleagues go quiet when I talk about energy.

But I’m not here to make sense to everyone.

That’s mediocrity — fitting yourself into an easily digested box.

I’ve chosen not to be digestible.
I’ve chosen to follow what my heart desires.

I dated another man once — someone who had let go of his dreams.
He shared that with me like it was just what adults do.
I had empathy for his experience, but I couldn’t relate.
I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t fought to reclaim his dreams.

And so, I’ve been single for a long time. Thirteen years.

For a while, I thought that meant I was unlovable.
Now I understand, I’m just unwilling to settle for mediocrity.
Not in relationships. Not in life.

A little under a year ago, I made a decision that changed my life.
I gave up on dating, deleted the apps and decided to focus completely on myself.

That choice was one of the most empowering I’ve ever made.
I poured all the energy that had gone into searching for a partner into training for my first ultra marathon.

And in less than eight months after I began running, I ran 54 km.
It felt like an initiation into my own power. I was so proud of myself.
A few weeks later, I found my new studio space.

So no, I don’t have a business that makes sense to everyone.
I’m a solo parent.
I don’t have a partner to support me (financially, energetically, emotionally).

And I’ve accepted that I’m probably going to stay single the rest of my life.

Letting go of something I sincerely wanted was no small thing, but staying stuck, longing for a relationship that wasn’t appearing, would’ve cost me even more.

What I have now is a life that I have to didn’t abandon myself to live.
I didn’t compromise for a mediocre relationship.
I have autonomy over my choices and my path.
​I own my life.

And I feel more empowered than I ever have.

There’s no magical thinking here — but there is magic.

That’s the key to moving beyond the shadow of mediocrity — not to compromise.