Delving Into Insecurities As I Grow My Virtual Yoga Offerings

Content Warning: Body Image/BDD/Eating Disorders

If you follow me on social media, you’ve probably noticed that I’ve been posting an increasing number of yoga videos. I also recently started a yoga video library on Vimeo, which is currently not yet publicly available, but which I did make available to my newsletter subscribers this month. In addition, I’ve been teaching my weekly benefit class via zoom. Suffice it to say, in the past month, I’ve seen a significant number of videos of myself. And I’m going to be honest - it’s not easy for me and it’s bringing up a ton of insecurities. 

At first, I was nervous to share my videos because they were definitely the “made at home in my living room with my phone or laptop” variety. Because I live in a one bedroom condo and do not have a home yoga setup per se, I’m propping up my phone or laptop with books on top of a kitchen island stool and having to move furniture out of the way in order to have enough room. If I use my laptop (zoom video downloaded) the audio is iffy. If I use my phone, often the video is a little crooked or I’m closer than I’d like to be to the camera because of spacing issues. With either, the lighting isn’t perfect and there’s always a good chance that my dog wanders in and out, though to be honest that part I think is kind of cute. And all of these things have made me a bit nervous to share the videos at large, though lately I’ve started sharing the shorter ones on social media a bit more. 

But regardless of the lighting and spacing and wandering dog and audio issues and all that, there’s another factor that I’m really struggling with: I am extremely self-conscious about seeing myself on video. I have struggled with body image issues basically my entire late teen and adult life. In my 20s, I suffered from eating disorders. While not officially diagnosed, I strongly believe I suffered from Body Dysmorphic Disorder. Negative thoughts about my body used to consume me, and my body image felt intrinsically tied to my self worth.  I’ve not actively battled eating disorders in about twelve years, and I’ve come a long way with my body image, but I still struggle with the latter, especially when my depression or anxiety are rearing their heads. And while I do not by any means judge others based on their bodies, and I know that my body does not actually mean anything about who I am as a person, I have always struggled with self-worth, self esteem, and confidence in general, and these creep into many areas of my life. It feeds into my insecurities, which are plentiful. 

When I see myself on video, I tend to over-analyze everything (also just a general tendency of mine in life, unfortunately). I’m particularly self-conscious about the fact that my stomach area always curves out slightly, partly because that’s just how it is, partly because I have strong curves in my lower back which tend to make me stand with my belly pushed out a bit, and partly because I have an abnormally high belly button/waist (seriously) so yoga pants, even the high waist ones, tend to fall right in the middle of that already rounded belly area, making it look even more pronounced. I’m also self-conscious about my posture. I notice, particularly as I’m walking into and out of the video (which I cut out because nobody needs to see that anyway), that my shoulders are hunched forward. It’s as if I’m a walking apology for the space I take up. Like I don’t actually believe in the video I’m about to make, even though I know I’m a good instructor, that people have told me they like my videos, and on the mat teaching is one of the few places I actually do feel generally confident in my abilities.I walk into and out of the video as if I don’t actually deserve to be taking up that space.  Even though nobody sees this part of the video, it gets to me - I do not want to be a walking apology for my existence, to move as if I do not deserve the space I occupy.. Nobody should be a walking apology for their existence or physical presence in this world. 

And finally, there’s my voice. I hate hearing myself. I don’t like recording voicemails because I hate how I sound, despite the fact that my former company had me record all of the phone greetings for the whole office, so my voice must not be that bad. But I’ve always been self-conscious about it. I’ve spent 40 years being told I talk too fast, too loud, too much (all unusual for a strong introvert, I know). I anxious-babble and ramble. My creative brain delves into stories and gets off track and goes on and on and then I get terribly embarrassed and assume I’m annoying everyone. Granted, I don’t tend to do these last two in class. I actually try to be pretty straightforward when I teach, especially when everything’s virtual and cueing is extra important because we can’t adjust and assist, and it’s tougher to see demonstrations. But still, a lifetime of wanting to stick my foot in my mouth and shrink into the corner doesn’t just vanish. Luckily, one advantage of a lifelong loud talker is that I’m able to project my voice even via zoom, and hopefully this assists my students in being able to hear me clearly. But still, I’m self-conscious. 

I say this all, because I think it’s an important message, in general, and especially in the world of yoga where pictures of supermodel-looking people doing impossible-looking poses in bikinis on the beach at sunset can make others feel that yoga isn’t for them, that they can’t do yoga, that they’ll never be ‘good enough’ at it, that you have to be or act or feel a certain way to do a yoga, to be a yogi.  And you don’t. Plain and simple. .Not at all. Maybe the bikini supermodel sunset someone’s reality and that’s fine if that’s who they truly are, but it’s certainly not mine. I also think it’s important because in yoga we talk a lot about accepting where we are, and letting go of expectations, and being in the present. And those are all focuses of yoga. But I don’t want anyone to think that if they aren’t there yet, that they can’t do yoga, that they aren’t a “good enough yogi” (there’s no such thing). I’m a yoga teacher, but I certainly don’t have it all figured out, and I don’t have to.  There’s a reason yoga is called a practice. It’s not something to perfect. It’s not an end goal. It’s a process, always. A continual practice. Even as a teacher I am still always a student as well. I am an imperfect human being with flaws and insecurities and struggles first and foremost. I’m a yoga teacher second (actually I’m a wife and daughter and sibling and friend second, but you get the point). 

Taking my yoga business online has been a challenge, and while I obviously don’t lilke the reasons for it (i.e. global pandemic), I’ve welcomed the chance to grow and develop myself and my practice and my teaching in a way I definitely hadn’t imagined.  I like the opportunity to experiment with various formats, different ways of bringing yoga to people. I enjoy reaching into these options with curiosity. Bringing my teaching online has allowed me to practice with people who can’t logistically make it to my live classes. I’m excited to continue to grow this aspect of my business (which is, right now, all of it!). There are also my own personal challenges. I’m having to let go of my tendency towards perfectionism, and to do the best I can with what I have and where we are as a society in this moment (i.e. staying at home). I’m having to delve insecurities - about my body, my voice, the way I carry myself - that have plagued me for years. I’m battling, as always, my fears of being rejected, of failing, of my efforts flopping spectacularly, which is all more visible to everyone when those efforts are out on social media. But for the first time in a long time, I’m able to see past those fears. My desire to help others through yoga, both on and off the mat, is stronger. My pull to be of service in some way, to offer what I can, especially with what we’re all experiencing now, is greater. I know it’s not saving the world or fighting COVID or keeping people fed or keeping society running, but it’s what I have to offer. And if I can help people take a break from stress, or get some physical relief from pain or discomfort by moving their bodies, or help people connect with themselves or community or something greater, or if I can raise money for causes helping others through benefit yoga, than that’s wonderful, and I’m willing to deal with the insecurities and doubts and fears to do so.