Coming Back Feels Alien (But Maybe That’s the Point)

As I write this, it’s the last day of 2025.

For many people, this day is about celebration, listing achievements, popping champagne, tying the year up with a neat little bow. For me, it brings a quieter, more uncomfortable question: What did I actually achieve?

I revisited the intentions I set at the beginning of the year and, on paper, it looks like I only ticked off one thing. Finding a new home for my family. Just one. But that “one thing” took almost the entire year: searching, moving, settling, refurnishing, rebuilding a sense of home. And while I’m deeply grateful, part of me still whispered, Is that enough?

Somewhere along the way this year, I felt a disconnect from my spiritual self, from the rhythm I used to move through life with. Even my mum noticed it before I fully admitted it to myself. Life had been full, but not always nourishing.

And so, as the year closes, I find myself craving a fresh start not a dramatic reinvention, just a gentle return.

Recently, a small pocket of time opened up on a Monday afternoon while my little girl is occupied. And with it came a quiet thought: What if I taught again?

It feels almost surreal to say that out loud. There was a time when I taught 13 classes a week while holding down a full-time job. That was my life pre-lockdown busy, intense, and deeply fulfilling in its own way.

Then lockdown happened, and I welcomed the pause. And then life unfolded: I met someone, moved away from Chelmsford where my classes were based, became a mum, and suddenly my world shifted. Sleep deprivation, exhaustion, and the beautiful chaos of motherhood meant that yoga my yoga gently moved to the back seat.

Not because it didn’t matter anymore, but because something else needed me more.

Now, five years on, an opportunity has appeared. And with it, nerves.

I’ll be honest I’m scared. Scared no one will turn up. Scared I’m out of practice. Scared that starting again in a new town, a new space, with a new community means rebuilding everything from scratch. The unknown has a way of magnifying doubt.

And then, on the 30th of December, this quote found me:

“Do one thing every day that scares you.” — Eleanor Roosevelt

So here it is. This is mine.

Posting about my new yoga classes. Showing up. Allowing myself to be seen again.

Yes, it’s scary. Yes, I worry about whether I’m “good enough” or whether anyone will book. But I’m learning that fear doesn’t always mean stop sometimes it simply means this matters.

And if the class doesn’t work? That doesn’t mean I’ve failed. It might just mean the timing, the place, or the season isn’t quite right and that’s okay too. Not everything is meant to last forever. Some things are simply meant to be tried.

As Susan Jeffers said, Feel the fear and do it anyway.

This is me doing it anyway not chasing perfection, but choosing courage, curiosity, and compassion for where I am right now.

Because coming

back might feel alien… but maybe that’s how growth always begins.

If you’re craving a gentle reset to your week, a space to move, breathe, and reconnect with yourself, I’d love to welcome you to my new Monday class 🤍

🧘‍♀️ Mondays @ 1.30pm

📍 Green Pilates Movement Studio, Braintree