You’re My Yoga Teacher. That Doesn’t Mean You Actually Know Me

I’m the first to admit I tend to distract myself from my “dark and twisty” emotions in my everyday life. That’s why I practice yoga. It allows me to show up, feel what I’m feeling, and practice a good dose of non-judgment toward myself.

I can’t always say, however, that the yoga teachers I’ve practiced with have offered me the same courtesy. Over the course of my 10-plus years of practicing, I’ve been called “stoic,” “quiet,” and that I’m someone who “likes to be in control” by different teachers.

If these sound like judgments, it’s because they are.

The first two characterizations came from teachers I’d practiced with before. They directed their comments at me after they noticed me simply existing—sitting on my mat waiting for class to begin.

The teacher who assumed that I like control seemingly arrived at this conclusion based on how I was moving through a Sun Salutation. “I feel like I’m seeing more of you today,” she said cryptically, walking by my mat. It bugged me. I wanted to reply, “I’ve literally taken your class only twice.” Instead, after class, I left, quietly ruminating.

One could argue that the teachers who boldly labeled my personality were simply making conversation. Or that their observations were generally harmless. I’ve considered these rationalizations, not wanting to completely victimize myself if, in fact, they meant nothing by it.

However, the one question I still have trouble answering in relation to these events is why? Sure, we all have an inner monologue about the people and situations around us. But why, as a yoga teacher, would you feel the need to tell me yours without solicitation? Perhaps, most importantly, why do you think you know me so intimately? Is it because you occasionally stand in a room with me—along with 27 other people—for an hour?

I’m positive these teachers didn’t realize the weight of their words when they said them. And I’m certainly not blaming them for the fact that, years later, I still weaponize what they said against myself in my most anxious moments. (“Am I overthinking? It’s because I like to be in control.” Am I hard to read? Well, maybe I am stoic after all.”). But I do think they should consider that their roles are teachers and leaders—not trigger bombers. I’d invite yoga teachers who feel inclined to pretend they know my personality from the couple hours a month we coexist in the same room to try and not judge my feelings…or me.