Softness is a Strength

How motherhood, yoga, heartbreak, and healing taught me that the most powerful thing we can do is stay tender in a tough world.

Mother’s Day always leaves me feeling a little tender in the best way. It stirs up memories, emotions, and a deep gratitude for this wild, beautiful journey of motherhood. It also reminds me that being a mom requires much softness and surrender.

There are so many moments in life, like becoming a mother, that give us the choice to tighten up or to release and let go. I noticed early on my tendency to get anxious, to want to do everything perfectly, when I had my first son. I wanted to be the best mom ever. But the more I pushed, the more wound up I became. It was only when I let go—when I started listening to my inner voice and simply loved as openly, fully, and presently as I could—that a sweeter side of me began to emerge.

Motherhood softened me in ways I never expected. Before kids, I was strong in the ways we often think of strength—driven, focused, always holding it all together. I had a strong work ethic and put my clients first. But when I became a mother, I cracked open. I felt torn between going back to work and staying home with my baby. Love poured in through the sleepless nights, the tiny hands reaching for mine, the quiet moments when all I could do was breathe through it. Motherhood broke down my walls. It taught me that true strength lives in surrender, in bending, in allowing ourselves to feel it all.

And when I gave birth a second time, to twins, I had almost no choice but to stay soft. The chaos and overwhelm of caring for two babies (plus a toddler) could have dragged me down, but instead, I learned to let it lighten me up. I let go of perfection. I gave myself grace. I softened.

Yoga has always been my reminder to return to softness. Every time I step on my mat, I’m invited to meet myself exactly where I am. Not to push or strive, but to notice. To breathe. To soften into discomfort instead of resisting it. That’s where transformation begins. Yoga is the ultimate balancing act—effort and ease, stillness and movement, discipline and play. Just like life. When we soften into ourselves and the moment, we tap into a joy we never imagined possible. It’s not always easy, but it’s so rewarding.

When I went through my divorce, I clung to this mantra: softness is a strength. It would have been so easy to harden, to lash out, to build up walls. But I kept whispering to myself: stay soft. I took the high road—not because it didn’t hurt, but because I knew that kindness, especially in moments of heartbreak, is a power no one can take away from me.

Even during career transitions, when everything felt uncertain, I had to resist the urge to muscle through or shut down. Instead, I leaned toward the light. I stayed open. I reminded myself that my softness wasn’t something to hide or harden—it was my strength. I refused to let the world steal my gentleness.

People may try to convince us that strength means staying guarded. That means never crying, never breaking, never bending. But I’ve learned the opposite is true. Real strength lies in letting go. In choosing vulnerability. In being real.

I cried on my mat multiple times while teaching live on camera during my Peloton classes. I didn’t mean to—but the rawness of what I was going through, combined with a song that hit just right, would sometimes bring tears to my eyes. At first, I felt embarrassed. But then I’d hear from someone in my DMs who’d say, “Thank you for being vulnerable, for being real, because I cry too.” Each of us is going through our highs and lows. Life is one incredible, often intense ride. Being able to feel it fully and soften into it is what makes us strong.

Softness doesn’t mean weakness—it means presence. It means being brave enough to feel. It means loving with your whole heart, even when it hurts. It means trusting that who you are, in all your tenderness, is more than enough.

This week, when you sit down to meditate, repeat this mantra quietly in your mind:

Softness is a strength.

Softness is a strength.

Softness is a strength.

The world can be a tough place, and there will always be moments that tempt us to harden. But what we truly need more of is a gentle, warm place to rest our heads. A hand to hold that comforts without gripping. A shoulder to cry on. An open mind that listens without judgment, only love. The kind of pure, unconditional love that feels like a mother’s embrace. So be soft with yourself. Be soft with others. We could all use more softness. And with that softness, the world becomes a better, braver, more beautiful place, one where we’re all stronger, together.