I completed 500 yoga classes last week. I’ve never really kept track of how many hours I’ve spent practicing yoga on my own. I know 500 is certainly a conservative count, but I didn’t even realize I had reached that number until I was told by the team at my favorite yoga studio. People often assume I’ve been doing yoga for years, but the truth is, it’s only been a little over two. I didn’t even work out before (I mean… I could barely do a single push-up!) I used to joke that

On International Women’s Day this year, I want to honor the little girl in me. The girl who used to be stubborn, impulsive, and restless. The girl once known more for her masculinity than her femininity—dominating, controlling, rebellious. The girl who loved being the provider, the builder, the fixer. Who preferred pants over dresses. Who never hesitated to stand up for the underdog, to take risks, to speak out. The girl who never quite fit in. I’ve also seen this same girl—w

I’ve grown to really embrace this space that I have here to express myself freely. Not trying to impress anyone, but being creative,...