Not Yours to Define: My Joy, My Journey
Bonnie turning the world upside down in her 70’s—literally!
We were in the middle of a conversation about how much I love yoga when his words caught me off guard.
“Well, yoga’s great—but it helps if you’ve got the right body for it, like a ballet dancer. And, you know, if you’re not too old.”
I’m 57. Not shaped like a ballerina—and never have been. But I still show up on my mat 5-6 days a week.
In that moment, I didn’t have a comeback. Just silence, and a sting that brought back an old echo—the one I’ve spent years learning to quiet.
Growing up, I wasn’t the tall, graceful type. I was short and slow. I played every sport I could—basketball, volleyball, swimming—not because I was the best. The joy wasn’t in winning; it was in showing up, giving it my all. I wasn’t anyone’s first pick, but I knew I belonged.
Eventually, group sports became more about performance than play. And I stopped playing—not because I wanted to, but because I felt like I didn’t measure up.
I found yoga in my 50’s.
Not through some glamorous retreat, but in the quiet ache of my back after too many hours hunched over a laptop—and after dealing with two frozen shoulders that had limited my range of motion for years. My body was stiff, my spirit restless. I needed something that could meet me where I was—not where I used to be.
Yoga didn’t care how flexible I was. It didn’t ask for grace or strength. It just asked me to show up.
And over time, I realized—yoga isn’t just about feeling good today. It’s how I want to age.
With every breath and stretch, I build balance, mobility, and presence. It’s an investment in how I move through the next decades—with strength and less fear.
And I know I’m not alone.
So many women—brilliant, beautiful women—have whispered to me like it’s a secret:
“I can’t do yoga. I’m too old. Too stiff. Too big. Too broken.”
To which I say, with love and a little fire: That’s exactly why you should try.
Because yoga doesn’t belong to a certain body type.
It doesn’t live on Instagram.
It doesn’t require permission.
If you’re breathing, yoga is already yours.
These days, I practice with women from their 20’s to their 80’s. Some can handstand longer than I can hold a grudge. Some wobble with me. But we all show up—imperfect, strong, curious.
My teacher, Annie Carpenter, has been practicing yoga for over 40 years and teaching for more than 30. She’s known for her alignment-based SmartFLOW method and her deep understanding of how to sustain a yoga practice as we age. She’s one of the sharpest and most grounded teachers I know. Bonnie (age 70+), one of my idols in class, floats into crow pose like she’s levitating. Me? I still fall. I still laugh. And I keep showing up.
That’s what yoga is really about:
Breath
Movement
Stillness
Community
And telling your inner critic to take a hike
So let’s stop waiting to be perfect.
Let’s stop waiting to be picked.
Let’s stop shrinking ourselves to fit someone else’s mold.
Yoga isn’t just for dancers or wellness influencers.
It’s not just for the young, thin, or bendy.
It’s for all of us.
Even me. Even you.
Especially anyone who’s ever thought: “Maybe I don’t belong.”
Spoiler alert:
You do.
And if someone still says yoga isn’t for you, here’s a few graceful comebacks:
“If you think yoga isn’t for me, maybe that’s exactly why I need to be here.”
“Good thing yoga doesn’t care what body you came with—just that you showed up in it.”
“Yoga is for every body with a body. That includes mine.”
Respond with a powerful mudra.
Yoga wasn’t for her body? One mudra said otherwise.
Let’s wobble, breathe, and rise—together.
Because yoga meets you exactly where you are.
And reminds you: you are already enough.
Because the world doesn’t need more perfection.
It needs more women showing up exactly as they are.
Yoga Is for Every Body (Even Mine)
Wendy Wheeler
Two year ago, this pose felt impossible. Today, I’m in it—with breath, presence, and pride.
