The Shift — Vol. 03
A yoga teacher on stepping back from teaching, trusting her intuition, and why motherhood set her free instead of closing her in.

Ali Owens @aliomyoga
Yoga teacher, currently on pause from teaching
There's a version of the yoga-teacher story you'd expect: the free spirit who found stillness through movement, who filled her calendar with client sessions and international retreats and a passport she was always ready to use. Then a baby arrives, and the story is supposed to end in more constraint — plans replaced by a house, spontaneity replaced by a schedule.
That's not quite how it went for Ali. She's stepped back from teaching since having her baby. Ask her how that pause feels, and the answer isn't grief. It's something closer to relief.
On who she was before
"Before becoming a mom, I would have described myself as an independent yoga teacher with a free spirit and desire to travel. I spent my days teaching yoga and guiding meditation classes, while working with clients 1:1 and planning international retreats. My life revolved around my classes, clients, work opportunities, and spending time with friends and family."
It's a full life, and a specific kind of freedom — the kind measured in flights booked on a whim and hours spent in self-study. It's also, as it turns out, not the only kind.
The Shift
"The biggest shift in my identity since becoming a mother has been shifting from being a whimsical yoga teacher to someone who is deeply involved in their children's upbringing and focused on providing a safe home with a strong foundation of love, trust, and belonging. The part of me that would simply book a plane ticket on a whim to Bora Bora is now a carefully planned-out scheduler who takes inventory of how many snacks and diapers we need to bring when we leave the house."
"Grieving this aspect of my life was difficult at first, but learning to adapt — and even bringing my kids along for life's adventures — has enhanced my experience and allowed me to share the world with them in a way that feels meaningful and fulfilling."
The whimsy didn't disappear. It found a new shape — one with a diaper bag in it.

On movement, and a body in constant flux
"My relationship with movement and my body has changed through pregnancy and postpartum in the sense that I learned that everything is in constant flux and that our bodies are incredibly resilient. I had to learn to adapt my practice to my changing body. I learned the value of rest, and how sometimes the most productive thing you can do is take a break. I became more creative with my transitions and broke free of the rigid patterns that had defined my practice for so many years."
"My movement became more fluid and feminine, and my body became softer and more adaptable. Still, it was strong and resilient — I discovered in postpartum our innate ability to heal and repair, as long as the environment supports our health and wellbeing."
A practice built on rigid patterns became one built on listening. That's not a downgrade. It's the whole point of the discipline, finally arriving.
A Morning, Interrupted
"My baby was just a few months old. I woke up before him and went downstairs to practice yoga. I was about twenty minutes into my flow when I heard him on the monitor. I walked upstairs to greet him and nursed him back to sleep. By the time the other kids had woken up, it was time to get them ready for school. My practice was not complete, but even those few moments had set the tone of the day."
"After the kids were off to school, I'd planned to get some work done — but my baby had other plans. He skipped his morning nap and cried if I tried to focus. So instead of forcing it, I took him on a long walk, where he drifted off to sleep, and I got to finish my practice by walking in the woods. When we got back, he was well rested, and we were both able to enjoy the day, because our needs were met."
"Motherhood sometimes means being flexible, and allowing things to happen when they should — which is not always when you expect." — Ali Owens, on a practice that adapts
On strength, redefined
"Strength to me means being vulnerable. It takes real courage and strength to show up and be authentic, to ask for what you need, and be honest about where you are. So many of us were raised to have it all together — but motherhood breaks you open in ways you may not have expected, to reveal what you need to work on in order to be the most healed version of yourself for your kids."
"It takes strength to say this is hard, but I am going to do it anyway. And when we show up in our strength and vulnerability, it gives others permission to as well — which is what kids need: to be loved and accepted for who they are, fully and completely."
To the mom who feels like she's losing herself
"You can always come back. I have lost myself in parenting, like so many other moms, and we are the most resilient beings on the planet because we always come back, for our kids. If you feel like you're losing yourself, return to your community — specifically your maternal community — and bathe in laughter, stories, good food, and rituals that return you to yourself."
"Motherhood will change you, but it will also help you remember who you are — a resilient soul with a life purpose that is intertwined with the lives of those you choose to call your own."
You didn't lose yourself. You shifted.

"I thought motherhood would make me feel trapped. Instead, it made me feel free." — Ali Owens
Shop Ali's Look
Abigail Nursing Top — Mist
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The Daily Support Pocket Postpartum Legging — Navy
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Océane 4 Medium Support Nursing & Pumping Bra — Blush Pink
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She practices in Sweat & Milk — on the mat, in the woods, wherever the moment calls her.