At the end of March, I said yes to something new.
A part-time opportunity.
A new studio.
A chance to share a practice that brings me joy — yoga.
I stepped in open-hearted.
I took classes beforehand.
I met instructors.
I introduced myself to students.
And for five days, I taught.
There was laughter.
Connection.
First-timers.
Regulars curious about a new voice in the room.
It felt hopeful.
But underneath it all, something didn’t sit right.
The welcome never quite came.
The clarity never quite arrived.
The respect felt… thin.
And then the truth surfaced.
After I had already taught multiple classes, I learned that I would only be paid for half of the hour I taught.
Half.
Not because I had agreed to it.
Not because it was clearly explained upfront.
But because that was simply “how it works” for low attendance classes.
And something inside me tightened.
Not because of the money.
Because of the message.
It said:
Your time is flexible.
Your preparation doesn’t count.
Your presence is negotiable. Know your worth.
But here’s what people don’t see.
A class does not begin when the clock strikes the hour.
It begins in the planning.
In the sequencing.
In the intention.
In arriving early.
In staying late.
In creating safety.
To reduce that to “30 minutes” is to misunderstand the work entirely.
And I realized something important.
I am no longer available for spaces that diminish what I bring.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
But clearly.
In this moment knowing your worth as a woman is crucial.
I decide I will not continue there.
And that decision felt clean.
The Harder Part Wasn’t Leaving
The harder part was letting go.
For days, I replayed it.
The texts.
The tone.
The surprise.
The disappointment.
I caught myself rehearsing the story in my head — as if reliving it would somehow make it fair.
But it didn’t.
It just made me tired.
I once listened to Dr. Rangan Chatterjee interview the Buddhist monk Gelong Thubten. He spoke about anger in a way that stayed with me.
Unexpected, unwanted, unpleasant things will happen.
We don’t always choose them.
But when we cling to the story, we become the ones who suffer.
And that’s the real trap.
Because holding onto resentment feels powerful in the moment.
But it quietly drains your aliveness.
Knowing your worth as a woman becomes essential.
Spring Is Not Just Pretty. It’s Fierce.
In Traditional Chinese Medicine, spring belongs to the Wood element.
Wood is not gentle.
It is the force of a sprout pushing through frozen ground.
It is upward movement.
It is assertion.
It is growth that refuses to stay buried.
And Wood teaches the wisdom of bamboo:
Be rooted in your values.
But flexible enough to bend with the wind.
This experience showed me my roots.
I value clarity.
I value transparency.
I value being treated like a professional.
And I am strong enough to bend —
but not so flexible that I fold.
That’s the difference.
This Is What Growth Actually Looks Like
Growth is not always glowing and Instagram-worthy.
Sometimes growth looks like:
Saying no quietly.
Walking away without theatrics.
Refusing to shrink to keep the peace.
Sometimes growth looks like not sending the angry text.
Not writing the defensive email.
Not burning the bridge.
Just… stepping forward.
Spring asks us to clear stagnant energy.
Old stories.
Old disappointments.
Old versions of ourselves that tolerated less.
So I’m clearing this one.
Not pretending it didn’t sting.
Not pretending it was fine.
But choosing not to carry it forward.
Because my energy is worth more than that.
You Are Still Growing
So I’ll ask you:
Where are you tolerating less than you deserve?
Where are you replaying a story that is draining your strength?
And what would it feel like to root into your values — and rise anyway?
You are not done.
You are still growing.
And sometimes growth begins the moment you decide you are no longer available for less.
If this season feels like a shift for you too, I invite you to take the next step.
Explore our upcoming workshops and retreats — spaces designed to reconnect you to your strength, clarity, and aliveness.
And if you haven’t already, subscribe to the newsletter.
Because something bold is expanding.
And I have a feeling you’re going to want to be part of it.