You know when someone asks a simple question – “How did you come to yoga?” – and you suddenly realise it’s not a simple answer at all?
Yeah. That.
So here’s the not-so-linear, deeply human, slightly messy, kind of miraculous version of how I found yoga (or maybe how it found me).

The Escape (a.k.a. My Quarter-Life Plot Twist)

I was 20, lost, raw, and already a few years deep into therapy. It had helped me survive – but I wasn’t really living. So I did the classic soul-searching thing and left Germany, travelling solo through Australia and then New Zealand.
Enter: van-life.
Enter: a guy with an old van and a bright smile.
Enter: me jumping in, heart first.
It wasn’t all sunsets and surfboards. I was still carrying a storm inside me. And then – boom – I got pregnant at 22.

The First Birth: Fear and Fire

We moved back to Germany. I was terrified. Anxious. The pregnancy was medicalized and intense – I had a blood disorder, and the appointments were constant. The birth itself was traumatic. It was so traumatic that for my second child, I said, “Nope. We’re doing a C-section.” I was done with all of it.
I told myself I wasn’t cut out for this whole “woman” thing.
Too painful. Too raw. Too much.
But… healing doesn’t work on our timelines.

The Deep Healing Begins

What I didn’t realise was: that birth cracked me open. That “I’m done” was the beginning of something far deeper. A truth-telling. A stripping away. A real, gritty, sacred kind of healing.
After our second child, my husband got sterilised. End of story, right?
Nope.

The Unexpected Yes

Seven years later, a whisper started inside me. I wanted another baby. But not just that – I wanted to experience a beautiful pregnancy. A redemptive birth. Something whole.
Surprisingly, my husband felt it, too. We found a doctor, reversed the procedure, and six months later – I was pregnant again.
And this time, everything was different.

Enter: Yoga (Finally)

I was wondering what I wanted to do with my life, besides being Mum. I stumbled across a children’s yoga training and thought – yes, that. But morning sickness hit like a truck, and I couldn’t go.
Still curious, I searched for something else… and found a prenatal & postnatal yoga teacher training, right near where I lived.
I joined at 5 months pregnant.
That training changed me.
Not just the knowledge – but the way yoga made me feel. Like my body was wise. Like I could trust myself again. Like I could breathe, no matter what was coming.
My final weekend of training was when I was 39 weeks pregnant. That birth? Glorious. Gentle. Empowering. I cried. I laughed. I healed.

Life After the Mat

Since then, yoga has walked with me. I trained in kids’ yoga. Thai yoga. Taught prenatal yoga for nearly 3 years. Got pregnant again. Sold our house. Travelled the world with our 4 kids (yes, 4!). This was 2022.
Now, in 2025, we’ve landed in Australia.
I’ve finished my 200-hour YTT with Yoga Renew and am deep into my 300-hour. I’ve become a trauma-informed coach. I’m studying my diploma of counselling and Neuroscience.
And for the first time in a long time, I can feel all the threads coming together – woven with breath, with purpose, with love.

What Yoga Gave Me

Yoga didn’t fix me.
It reminded me I wasn’t broken.
It gave me breath when I felt like I was drowning.
It gave me strength when I thought I was weak.
It gave me softness, where once I had walls.
And maybe most of all—it gave me me.
Thanks for reading my story. And if you’re somewhere on your own wobbly path, I hope this reminded you that healing rarely looks tidy – but it’s always sacred.

And now I’m curious…
If you practice yoga—how did you get there?
Was it heartbreak? Healing? Curiosity? A dodgy YouTube video in your lounge room?
I’d love to hear your story too. Drop it in the comments or message me anytime. 🧡

Love, Stefanie Anna