I started practicing yoga in 2011 when I was first diagnosed with anorexia. It was the only physical activity I was allowed, and a friend of my mum literally dragged me to a tiny studio in my hometown in southern Italy. After that first time on the mat, I never looked back and continued to practice yoga in every city I moved to—Rome, Paris, and then Rome again, even finding a small online community during COVID, and later a tiny room in Pisa. Yoga initially helped me relax, feel secure, and regain a sense of strength and control over my body. However, during that period, I was struggling with hyperactivity, and yoga asana became just another way of burning calories and punishing myself. What started as a means of self-care instead reinforced my unhealthy behaviors, pushing me to strive for thinness, flexibility, and perfection of form. Staying upside down in sirsasana, dropping into wheel, and attempting pincha in every possible variation merely eased the guilt of eating "too much" and numbed my emotions.

But then something magical happened—a shift in perception. Before that, I had to hit rock bottom, finding myself in a hospital bed with an IV drip to keep me alive. It was during that hospitalization that I began meditating, 20 minutes every morning and evening. In the darkest moments, I was fortunate enough to witness stunning sunrises and sunsets over the lake as I explored the deepest corners of my heart. For the first time, I heard the mantra "Govinda Hare, Gopala Hare" chanted by Krishna Das, and I was captivated by it, especially its interpretation. "And you do the best you can—which is why sincerity, humility, honesty, as well as courage and energy are important. Because we don't know who we are, we don't know what we're doing, we don't know where we're going. We are hoping; we have faith."

In January 2021, I moved to London for my PhD research, ready and excited to reclaim my life. The very first day I arrived, while waiting for my COVID test results, I started looking for a gym and found one that offered yoga classes. It was there that I met my first Jivamukti teacher, Melody, and fell completely in love with the method and the strength of the woman who soon became a great support and friend. They say nothing happens by coincidence. I began practicing, studying, and exploring the many facets of the Jivamukti method, and from the first moment, I felt like I was coming home to myself.

In September 2022, I joined the 75-hour Jivamukti teacher training in Barcelona. I had no idea what I was getting into and felt completely out of my element. On the second day, I even asked the facilitator if I could leave. But less than a year later, I returned to Barcelona for the Jivamukti apprenticeship program (JTAP). Something had shifted, and my emotions, long locked away, began to surface. Surrounded by amazing souls, I felt for the first time that I was being led "from the darkness to the light."

In February 2023, I went to India for the 300-hour Jivamukti teacher training at Govardhan Eco Village. It was, by far, the most beautiful month of my life. For a long time, I had been searching desperately for my place in the world, convinced that moving from one city or country to another would help me find it. That uplifting, challenging month opened the door to my true home—my inner home—guided by the compass of my heart. It was the first time I truly responded to my inner calling.

After returning from the 300-hour training in India, I made the decision within a month to leave London and move to Barcelona for the 500-hour apprenticeship program. With my entire life packed into three suitcases, one bag, my baby harmonium, three yoga mats, and my PhD thesis, I took the first decision that truly followed my heart, pursuing my dreams and passion. There was nothing 'rational' about that choice—just a big leap into the unknown, completely unexpected. I never intended to move to another country for the fourth time in less than ten years.

One month later, when I taught my first class, I was incredibly nervous, shaking from head to toe. But at the end of that class, I felt an overwhelming happiness like never before, a feeling I still experience at the end of every class I teach. In that moment, I realized that I had moved to Barcelona because of a higher force beyond myself, driven by a deep sense of Bhakti and devotion. It's the same feeling I get every time I open the harmonium, place my fingers on it, and close my eyes, or when I shut the studio door after each class.

It was the most challenging yet gut-felt decision of my life, leading to tremendous growth. I've discovered my most vulnerable, softest, sweetest self, and at the same time, my strongest, most determined, most committed self. This has been the greatest revolution of my life, and as David Life-ji would say, “Self-liberation is the only internal revolution we can have.”

When I realized that yoga was no longer just a tool to fill an inner void or boost my self-esteem but a true form of responsibility, I decided to start teaching. Today, I celebrate and honor this practice, recognizing the privilege I have to share it. Teaching yoga, for me, is about spreading compassion, love, and care for the heart, body, and soul of others. Within the Jivamukti method, I’ve found all of this. Teaching yoga is the balance of the universe, the balance between the dream pulling you forward and the discomfort pushing you out. I know in my heart that this is what I am meant to do with this life, and this has been possible thanks to my beloved teacher and mentor, Olga Oskorbina, to whom I will be infinitely grateful. We've walked this path together from the very beginning, inspired by her humility, compassion, and devotion.