I truly don’t know where I’d be. Along with my mum’s encouragement and my deep desire to finally finally finally do something for the goodness of my body I attended my first yoga class at 10am on a Monday morning, a few weeks before my 21st birthday.

I was in the throes of ending a long and destructive relationship. A relationship that was wrong for so many reasons. It was difficult to escape from and when I did I was physically and emotionally exhausted.

I remember walking, waif-like, across the studio floor. I was 46kg but I felt heavy. Music, something like this, was playing softly and nag champa was filling the air. I sat down, cross-legged, and waited for the class to begin.

The teacher, Mardi, sat in front of the class and led us through a short relaxation. She asked us to breathe. Through our nose and into our belly. I felt tears prick my eyes because within a few minutes I realised that I hadn’t felt the breath in my body for so long. It felt like I hadn’t breathed in three years. I hadn’t been in my body.

I continued to attend that Monday morning class. And then one class a week wasn’t enough. I started going twice, three times, sometimes four times a week. I began to notice contentment within myself. Happiness. And strength. Physically and mentally. I felt light. I was experiencing a change within me. And subsequently, a change around me. I became aware of my body and my self. How truly wonderful it is to breathe deep and move your body, flowing, through a series of energising postures. I was flowing.

I cancelled a trip to London and enrolled in yoga teacher training instead. I stayed at an ashram for two weeks and lived yoga. Rising with the sun to awaken my body with gentle yoga practices and breathing techniques. Eating vegetarian wholefood and finding beauty in simplicity – like an om symbol etched into the ground.

I felt new. Refreshed. Revived. All those wonderful things.

I am always so grateful to my Mum for guiding me in the direction of the studio at that time. Mardi, my first yoga teacher at that Monday morning yoga class is now my mother-in-law. If I hadn’t have found yoga, and discovered awareness and contentment and goodness within me, I wonder if I would have found Daniel. On the eve of Mother’s Day I am ever so thankful for the synchronicity that led me to the studio that day and for the ongoing journey I am on. Because yoga changed me. And now I am a Mother. To a baby yogi who holds his hands in prayer at hridaya mudra, his heart space, and says namaste the spirit within me honours and respects the spirit within you.