This is the story of the first yoga class I taught.
I’d just finished my yoga teacher training.
I had a plan. A playlist. A spare mat.
What I didn’t have… was a clue.
It was summer 2018, and I was desperate to practice teaching on real people — not just other yoga trainees.
So before I could chicken out, I set a date, booked a venue, and offered a free first class.
I spent the summer planning what I thought were brilliant sequences — and quietly panicking.
As the class date got closer, the anxiety set in.
Would I remember my training?
What if nobody came?
What if only one person came? (Would that be worse??)
And then…
A family member insisted on coming along to “help”.
(Helpful is not quite how it felt — more like being watched by your teacher and your boss at the same time.)
The day arrived.
I got there early, set up my mat, sat down.
So far, so good.
Then… my tummy had other ideas.
I’ll spare you the details – but five minutes before class, I was locked in the loo having an urgent “digestive chat” with my nervous system.
Thankfully, I was back in the room just in time.
One person arrived.
Great – someone to practice on!
Then another.
Phew – less awkward than just one.
Then suddenly – a stream of people. All with questions. All at once.
I ended up with 11 people. Including the “helpful” family member.
But in the chaos of answering everyone’s questions, I wasn’t watching the room.
When I looked up…
- Mats were laid out at random angles, like a game of Twister had exploded.
- My family member? Sat directly in front of me. Inches from my face.
- Two people were waaaaay off in a corner. I asked, “Would you like to move closer?” One of them just said, flatly: “No.”
At this point I realised:
I’d spent years in an office.
I didn’t have a yoga teacher voice.
I’d never learned how to manage a room.
So I let it go.
I put on the music.
Asked them to lie down and relax.
And gave myself a moment to breathe.
Then I started teaching… and immediately had to throw my whole plan out the window.
You see, in yoga teacher training, you practice on other trainee teachers.
My class plan? Perfect for trainee yoga teachers.
Totally wrong for 11 real-life beginners.
So I was improvising.
Like a swan gliding on the surface… but paddling like hell underneath.
Then we got to the standing poses.
I looked around.
What I’d thought I’d cued… was not what I saw.
Arms tangled. Feet pointing who-knows-where.
And my brain just… froze.
I remembered what we’d been taught:
If someone needs help, go to them. Bring them out of the pose. Cue them back in.
Easy, right?
Except it was all 11 people.
I was a total newbie.
Yes, I’d trained – but I hadn’t practiced on real people. So it was messy.
But honestly? Most meaningful beginnings are messy.
And it’s okay – actually it’s necessary – to start right where you are.
That’s true for teaching.
And it’s definitely true for starting yoga.
If you’re thinking of starting (or re-starting) yoga, here are my top tips for your first class:
1. Sitting cross-legged hurts?
Bring a firm cushion, folded blanket, or yoga block to sit on — it raises your hips and makes everything more comfortable.
2. Knees are sensitive?
A kneeling pad can make a big difference.
3. Tempted to hide at the back?
You’ll have a better experience if you can see and hear clearly — and I promise, no one’s looking at you.
4. Worried about breathing in the right places?
Don’t worry — just breathe.
5. Feeling overwhelmed because it’s all new?
Rest anytime. Watch for a while. It’s your body, your class.
6. Feel like you have to get everything right first time?
You don’t. There’s lots of repetition — so even if it feels like a blur, you’ll pick it up faster than you think.
I hope these tips help — and if you’re just getting started, I’m cheering you on. 💚
New to yoga? Come and join me!
If you’re a yoga beginner (or beginning again), you’re always welcome at my Beginner Friendly Yoga classes in Littlehampton. 🌿
🎉Try your first session for £5 with code FIVEPOUND at checkout.
And one last thing…
Ten of those eleven students came back the next week.
Not because the class was perfect — but because it was real.
And that’s more than okay.