How Yoga Ruined My Life
- deborahberrymanyog
- Aug 29
- 6 min read
Updated: Aug 31
My earlier career was as a high-flying exec in banking (which still feels surreal to me now!)
By then, I’d already been a devoted yoga practitioner for years and even begun training as a teacher to dive deeper.
Yoga was the gateway drug – the one that led me into sobriety, meditation, somatic movement, therapy, coaching, and an indecent number of books stacked by my bed – each one deepening my contentment, courage and self-trust.
These practices connected me to parts of myself I hadn’t known how to reach – braver, more joyful and less performative. I felt a growing sense of peace and freedom, and a taste of wholeness that I really liked.
But here’s the rub: there was pain too. Who I was becoming no longer fit the life I was living.
As you move through life: if you're committed to growing, staying emotionally and physically healthy, and managing your energy, your life and relationships more wisely, sometimes it exposes a gap. You start to notice those gaps widening - between where you are and where some of the people around you are willing to go.
At first it was a tiny crack I tried to cover up (nothing to see here, people!). But over time it grew into a chasm too painful to ignore.
The Chasm Opens
In the end, I walked away from the career that was killing slowly me on the inside, and the relationships that needed me to shrink or stay silent to keep the peace.
Honestly, it wasn’t brave. It was self-preservation.
There were days when the only way I coped was by making 47 to-do lists (none of which included ‘admit I’m not okay’,) and a fake smile that hurt my jaw.
So yes – yoga ruined my life. But it was a life that needed ruining. A life that looked amazing on paper, but felt awful on the inside. Built around a version of me hustling for worthiness, for scraps of approval – all poor substitutes for real love, meaning and connection.
Sitting on the Edge (Snacks Included)
Maybe you’re there right now, my love, staring into your own chasm. That’s ok. Let’s sit here on the edge together, legs dangling, snacks in hand. This too is part of the journey.
I’ve met so many women at this place – in the rooms of recovery, or leading yoga teacher trainings and retreats. Each one standing at her own edge, knowing there must be more peace, more meaning, more connection.
Knowing that in finding that, it will probably get harder before it gets better.
And they’re right.
Fieldnotes for the Stuck
So if you’re here, oh stuck one, let me share a few fieldnotes that helped me and many others cross:
Ask one simple question: Does this job, relationship, or situation bring out the best in me, the worst in me or the ‘meh’ in me?
Don’t focus on what you fear. Fear keeps us frozen. Instead, focus on what you’re fighting for – a life that feels like yours, to feel lit up again. To feel like you’re not just managing life, but actually living it.
Check Your Safety Harness. Crossing a chasm is scary — make sure your body, mind, and support team are clipped in. Even the bravest bridge-crossers need at least one steady hand on the other side.
Find the Secret Door. It’s rarely just “stay stuck” or “burn it all down.” There’s often a hidden third option — a way to grow without torching everything (unless you really want to!)
Now, let me be real with you. I wish I’d had more help, more tools, more wise women around me in my early adulthood to show me what this ‘third way’ could look like. Back then, my toolkit was basically: hustle harder, drink more wine, and redecorate the living room. Subtlety was not my strong point.
And honestly? Maybe I just wasn’t ready. Sometimes the whole thing really does need to be burned down before you can imagine building something different. If that’s where you are, it’s ok. Ashes make pretty good compost.
So these days, I rarely go alone (aka unsupervised!) I sit on retreats with Liz Gilbert and Annie Lamott, on trainings with Judith Lassater, Tara Mohr and Mel Robbins. I have wonderful coaches and mentors. And of course, the women in recovery rooms – fierce, funny, wise women – who taught me more about courage than any book ever could.
I need to be close up to the women on the other side who have done it and THRIVED! They became my lifelines, my lantern-holders. If you don’t have those people yet, go find them. They matter.
The Bridge to What’s Next
Of course, you can step back and pretend nothing’s happening. Lord knows, I've tried that!
But you can’t unknow what you know. That path demands heavy-duty numbing – and, dear fellow human, I sincerely hope you don’t choose it.
Or you can move forward. Yes, it’s terrifying. But remember – you’ve already survived so much. YOU are your own safety harness. The assurance you’re looking for is you. You can trust yourself. And THAT my love, is the magic of this whole, damn assignment.
The chasm needs a bridge, built from clarity, courage, and the tools to cross skillfully and safely with all you deem as precious items (or people) still in tact.
And here’s the miraculous thing: the joy doesn’t arrive at the destination. It comes the moment you step onto the bridge.
If your longing is to start a creative project or business, the lift in your heart doesn’t come when it’s finished – it comes the day you claim it as yours and begin.
Or if your longing is have more intimacy and connection in your relationships, the vitality doesn’t wait until everything’s solved – it shows up the moment you give yourself permission to start claiming it.
It’s about stepping onto the bridge. With both feet.
The Warning Label on Yoga
If only someone had handed me a leaflet at 25 that said:
WARNING: Yoga may help you remember who you really are and what you really want. Side effects include existential crises, career implosions, and spontaneous urges to buy incense. Please MIND THE GAP.
Because these practices let us taste the good stuff – the loving, playful, adventurous, real self. Which casts an even sharper shadow on where our life isn’t aligned.
You don’t have to fix it all today. But do dare to peek. Get honest about the places you’re not fully yourself. Even that tiny brave step matters.
And if you need a safe someone to say it out loud with, DM me. I'm happy to hold it gently while you figure out what’s next.
Return with Elixir
Here’s the tiny, brilliant miracle to end with: the life yoga “ruined” – leaving the job, the relationship, the certainty – became the compost for everything that followed. Every fulfilling relationship, every big adventure, every training or retreat I lead, every coaching conversation, is part of the elixir I dragged back from the edge.
It’s not theory. It’s lived. I know it works because I’ve walked it too. And I've seen it again and again.
And now, I’m off to do a reccie to find my next chasm. These days I go looking for it, because I know on the other side, a great, next adventure awaits! Stay brave my friend, there is plenty more joy on the other side. Hope to see you along the way.
Deborah x
PS thank you SO MUCH for all of the wonderful messages from my last blog on Hard Conversations. Your stories have been really powerful and touching to hear. There's a whole bunch of us out here, ready to brave the Wilderness - I'm listening, and I will offer something later in the Autumn. Watch this space. PPS Two spaces opening up for coaching in September (next chance is October). If you’ve been dangling your legs on the edge of the chasm and wondering whether to leap, pitch a tent, or build a bridge let’s hop on a call and see what’s possible.
I promise snacks and safety harnesses.
