From Trauma to Transformation:

You know how life can shift in a single moment?

For me, it was the day when he looked at me, the man I had loved since the tender age of 19 and trusted for 37 years, and told me he was leaving me for someone else. Just like that, in the blink of an eye, our whole life together was shattered—every promise, every memory, every dream of our future.

Over the coming months and years, friends and family that I’d known and loved for decades disappeared. Our home was now void of my partner, my best friend, my lover, my soul mate. My entire life felt erased and eviscerated, replaced by another person. Suddenly, I was all alone, standing in what felt like a stranger’s world.

Those first few weeks, months, and years were brutal. The pain and reminders were everywhere; this constant ache I couldn’t escape. I spent days asking myself over and over, “How could he do this? What was he thinking? Why?” I didn’t understand. There was no conversation. It felt as if he’d ended not just our life together, but the family life that we co-created and that I thought would last forever. It had evaporated in an instant.

I was tangled up in profound anger, grief, fear, and questions that I had no answers for. I felt stuck, hardly breathing and barely surviving each day. Deep down, I knew I had to find my way back to something better.

So I leaned into my yoga practice. A practice that has served me well for over two decades. Yoga was my medicine.

At first, the idea of attending class and getting on the mat in the state I was in felt impossible. I felt so heavy with anguish in my body and in my mind that I didn’t know if I had it in me. But I drove over to the studio, rolled out my mat, laid down, and let myself just be. I committed to showing up each day, despite the turmoil I was in. Yoga was the one thing that got me out of bed every morning. In some classes, all I could do was lie down and cry. Now, looking back, I see how powerful that was—just allowing myself to mourn without judgment, without any expectation of actually practicing. I simply surrendered to what was, curled up, letting the oceans of tears flow, feeling everything without pushing it away. And then, bit by bit, I was able to start releasing the intense emotional weight I’d been carrying.

Slowly, my body began to guide and ground me. Child’s pose, forward folds, savasana—those quiet, centering asanas let me feel the pain in a way that was gentle and kind toward myself as I tuned into the rhythm of my breath. I could feel all the tension I’d held starting to unwind while the tight squeeze around my heart began to soften. My fragmented mind began to quiet from constantly ruminating about the trauma I was going through. The mental exhaustion started to melt away.

Then, when my body felt ready, I began engaging in more active poses…warrior two, triangle, half moon pose. In tadasana, mountain pose, standing firm on the mat, pressing my feet into the ground, I sensed a strength rising inside me, a stability—I started to feel more balanced. Reconnecting with a part of myself I wasn’t sure I could access, I rediscovered the courageous one in me who endured being estranged from my family of origin, the matriarch in me who raised my beautiful girls, and the strong woman in me who built a happy and healthy home for my family.

My yoga practice reminded me that I didn’t need to rush past the pain or hide it. Yoga helped me commit to my healing. On the mat, I understood that it was okay to be with my sadness, to let it move through me, to invite it to guide me.

In the space of each breath and each stretch, I began to find a new way, a new me. I let go of blaming myself, of wondering what I could have done differently, or if I’d been “enough.” I forgave myself for the things I hadn’t seen, the conversations and closure I didn’t receive, and the blind trust I’d given. And each time I extended that generosity of spirit to myself on the mat, I felt lighter, like I was releasing old pieces of the past that were no longer mine to carry and reclaiming my inner sage, guide, and yogi. The Sanskrit affirmation, “om guru om guru deva deva” or “you are your own teacher” became my mantra.

cancel

Name

Email

Website

Δ

I noticed a deep resonance and readiness rising within me to share this journey with other women who might be faced with their own sudden loss and betrayals. The mat had been my refuge, my place of transformation, a return to a sturdy and sovereign version of myself. For that reason, I decided to return to my previous path as a yoga teacher to offer other women in transition the kind of healing space that saved me.

Now, as I guide others on the mat, in meditation, and at retreats, I witness the same strength and courage awakening in them that I found in myself. I see women discovering they are defined not by their past, but by how they rebuild. I watch them come together in sisterhood, embracing their wholeness and trusting their voice and intuition.

Years after the shock of my divorce, I am deeply grateful for each class, retreat, and soul connection, watching others find peace and reclaim their power—just as I have.

Now it is my gift to offer a few things I discovered that helped me through those early days. If you’re experiencing a painful life transition right now, here are some steps that can help you get yourself back on track.

• Commit to Radical Self-Care: It sounds simple, but start with the basics—put yourself first, each and every day. That means prioritizing sleep, nourishing yourself with whole, healthy foods, and giving yourself space to rest. Take a bath with Epsom salts. This is the foundation, a daily reminder that you matter and are worth caring for.

• Focus on your Breath: Whenever you feel overwhelmed, come back to your breath. The breath is your anchor. I would often sit quietly, hands over my heart, and breathe deeply. Let the exhale be longer than the inhale to calm the nervous system. Just five or ten minutes of focusing on my breath and breathing into my heart space enabled me to reconnect with my center and ease my anxiety.

• Begin Each Day with a Spiritual Practice: Whether it’s meditation, affirmations, journaling, or simply taking a walk in nature, start each morning with an intention to connect with yourself. These little rituals reminded me of my own presence and strength, even on days when it felt hard to get out of bed. A morning prayer I would say, “Thank you Universe for guiding me, supporting me, loving me, and healing me.” It was a touchstone that helped me feel connected to myself and the world around me.

• Consider a Gentle Yoga Practice: Even if all you can do is lie down in savasana and cry, that’s okay. Just being on the mat is grounding, a way of showing up for yourself and creating a healing ritual. Do a gratitude meditation every night before bed to end your day. This helps rewire the brain to focus on and appreciate what you do have. There are always things to be grateful for.

If you’re reading this, know that you don’t have to carry others’ choices and their impact on your shoulders forever. Yoga brought me back home to myself so I could hold the past without letting it define me, knowing what my part was so I could rewrite my own story, one breath, and one stretch at a time. The mat became a space of freedom, where I could reconnect with and live from my highest self, despite the actions of others.

It’s my hope that, as you step onto your own mat, you’ll feel that same potential within you—the strength to seek neutrality and to rise into a life that is authentically yours. Every time I lead a class, I’m reminded of how far we can come, how much healing we’re capable of, and how beautiful it is to rediscover the benevolent healer we all carry within.