I remember vividly the moment my ballet teacher said, “Rachel, you have no grace.” I was eight, embarrassed, but not surprised.
When I looked at my ballet classmates, I knew the painful truth: my body didn’t look like theirs.
So with my less-graceful body, I went down the athletic road, diving into two seasons of soccer a year and basketball in the winter. Despite an active life, weight from an early age became my problem.
By the age of 12, I was already seeing a nutritionist who insisted I track everything I ate. I was afraid to write “water” down – was I even allowed to have that?
After a few months with little change despite following a regimented plan, I remember my father saying, “Rachie, you don’t need to worry about all this, OK? Just keep moving.”
All through my teen years, I played active sports, and my body type was more suited to the rough-and-tumble they required.
On the field, I was a rock. It was one of the only places I felt my larger body did me well. But off the field, I just wanted to feel graceful.
For years I looked at yoga with curiosity, but reservation. Ingrained was my shame of being too stocky, too big, for the more refined arts. (Post continues after gallery.)
Yoga poses for a dodgy back.
My first yoga class was terrible. I couldn’t keep up, I slipped my hands off the mat, I felt exhausted, and I certainly didn’t experience a shred of grace. But I returned, week after week.