Teaching Yoga, Losing Jobs, and Finding My Voice
What happens when a yoga teacher sets boundaries and speaks up? In this story, I share how losing a yoga job helped me reclaim my voice, heal my throat chakra, and align with my true path. Real talk on yoga, business, and integrity.
The first time I lost a yoga job, it was because I asked for a raise.
The second time, it was because I stood up for myself when a studio owner told me, “Being adorable isn’t going to sell out your class.”
I’d like to say I clapped back with something clever or stood up tall in my truth in the moment, but what actually happened was this: my throat dried up.
I couldn’t speak. My voice shook. I didn’t know what to say. I felt small. I drank water like I was trying to wash the fear down.
Funny enough, that’s become a tell for me—when I want to say something but I’m scared or unsure, my throat tightens. I start chugging water. It’s like my body knows before my brain does: my voice is stuck, and my system is trying to clear the way.
Hello, throat chakra.
The Vishuddha Moment
In yoga philosophy, the Throat Chakra—Vishuddha—is the energy center of communication, self-expression, and truth. But it’s not just about speaking clearly. It’s about being willing to live your truth, even when it’s hard. Even when it means loss. Even when it means walking away from something you worked hard to be part of.
I had wanted to teach at these studios. I was proud of those jobs. But here I was, in back-to-back moments, confronting a bigger question:
If I was choosing a career path where I taught these teachings but didn’t live them—what was I even doing?
I kept coming back to the practice. Not just the poses, but the deeper work. The stuff that lives in your body and moves through your breath. The stuff that shows up in real life, not just on the mat.
Yogic Truth in Real Life
I thought of the Bhagavad Gita, where Krishna says:
“It is better to live your own dharma imperfectly than to live someone else’s perfectly.”
— Bhagavad Gita 3.35
I wasn’t fired because I was wrong. I was fired because I asked for more.
I didn’t walk away because I was too sensitive. I walked away because I was no longer willing to shrink to stay.
And somewhere in that quiet aftermath—when I was wondering if I’d ever get hired again or if I was being “too much”—I remembered this too:
“You have a right to perform your duty, but not to the fruits of your actions.”
— Bhagavad Gita 2.47
What a lesson. You can do the right thing and still lose the gig. You can show up in your integrity and still get rejected. That doesn’t mean you failed. It means you’re free.
Free to choose again. Free to align. Free to let your voice guide the way.
Living the Practice When It’s Hard
It’s easy to teach about alignment, truth, or integrity when everyone loves your class and you’re fully booked. It’s a lot harder when you’re underpaid, undermined, or told to be quieter and cuter so you “fit the brand.”
That’s where the teachings really begin.
The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali say:
“Satyam pratiṣṭhāyāṁ kriyā phala āśrayatvam.”
When one is firmly established in truthfulness, actions result in the desired outcome.
— Yoga Sutra 2.36
But that outcome isn’t always applause or popularity. Sometimes the “outcome” is clarity. Self-respect. The space to walk away.
Another one that sat with me during that time:
“Vitarka badhane pratipaksha bhavanam.”
When negative thoughts disturb the mind, cultivate the opposite.
— Yoga Sutra 2.33
I could’ve let those moments define me. I could’ve shut down, self-doubted, and silenced myself. Instead, I got curious. I got clearer. I asked new questions.
And as things tend to do when you finally stop clinging and start choosing—opportunities opened up. Not because I was louder, but because I was more me.
More rooted. More aligned. More willing to walk away from the wrong thing to make space for the right one.
Questions I Asked Myself
This wasn’t about making a pros and cons list. It was about coming back to the real work—my values, my voice, and the kind of teacher I wanted to be.
If you’re in a similar moment, here are the questions I asked myself that helped me decide:
Am I teaching these practices or actually living them?
What does integrity look like for me in this moment?
Is staying in this environment supporting or suppressing my growth?
If I wasn’t afraid of what I might lose, what would I say?
Do I feel respected, not just liked?
Can I lead with love and boundaries?
What kind of example do I want to be for my students?
Closing the Door, Opening the Throat
There’s a grief that comes with leaving. Even when it’s right. Even when it’s needed. Losing a job or stepping away from a space that once felt aligned can sting.
But what’s on the other side is often richer, fuller, and way more in integrity than what you left behind.
The Throat Chakra isn’t just about speaking up. It’s about the courage to trust that your voice, your truth, and your lived experience are enough. Even if not everyone agrees. Even if it means starting over. Even if it’s uncomfortable.
And if you’re building a business, teaching yoga, or leading anything that comes from your soul—you have to speak.
You have to choose alignment over applause. Clarity over comfort. Your own voice over someone else’s version of you.
Because if you don’t—what’s the point?
You don’t have to shout. You just have to say what’s real.
And sometimes, saying it means walking away.
If you’re in a moment of transition or trying to find your voice in your business, Harmony in the Hustle was made for you. It’s my training for yoga teachers and wellness professionals who want to build aligned, sustainable businesses without selling out their soul. We blend the teachings of yoga and Ayurveda with real-world strategy, nervous system support, and the clarity to say what you mean, do what feels right, and build something you actually want to wake up to.
Because your voice is your power. And your work should feel like a reflection of your truth.
