After years of deep inner work − therapy, journaling, drawing, meditating − I felt like I had changed.
I was calmer. Braver. Freer.

I’d been practicing yoga regularly for a few years. I was proud of how far I’d come.
One day I saw an ad for a one-week challenge from something called Yogi Flight School.
I signed up without much thought.

On the first day, we warmed up and then tried supported headstands − with a wall behind us.
I didn’t manage to do it all the way, but I didn’t mind. At least not then.

I was on a live Zoom call with dozens of others, all trying the same thing. I watched people pop up into headstands with ease, right there on camera. And still, I stayed in good spirits. I thought, maybe I’m just not ready, maybe I’m not strong enough yet.

Day two hit differently.

I focused and I pushed, I gave it everything. And still, I couldn’t do it. My body just… stopped.

I wasn’t tired. I wasn’t weak.
I was scared.

Despite the wall behind me, despite all the rational evidence that I was safe, I was frozen. My body refused to go up. This wasn’t about strength or balance.
This was about fear.

I literally cried on the mat. Not because I couldn’t do a headstand, but because something cracked open. I started wondering where else fear was making decisions for me. Where else I’d quietly let it run the show.  I’d done all this inner work, and still, fear had veto power over my body.

It wasn’t about yoga anymore. It was about believing in myself.

I didn’t get up that day. I was too tired. But I didn’t quit either. The next day, I came back. I decided I didn’t want fear to win just because it was loud.

Your body might believe that standing on your head is unnatural. Unsafe.
But you’re not your body.
You’re not your fear.
You get to choose.

So I did.
And I stood on my head.

We like to believe our limits are technical − things we can measure or fix.
But most of the time, they’re emotional.

You say, “I can’t do this.” But is that really you talking? Or is it fear, dressed up as logic? You don’t need to be fearless. You just need to decide who’s in charge. Sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is try again.

Even when you’re crying.

Especially when you’re crying.