Dismantling Common Myths About Yoga

Dismantling Common Myths

You Don’t Have to Be Flexible

“I want to try yoga, but I’m not flexible.”

I hear this all the time—from friends, from students, even from people whispering it half-jokingly when they find out I teach. And every time, I smile gently and say the same thing my teacher always tells every student who walks through our doors:

“You don’t have to be flexible to do yoga. You do yoga to become flexible.”

In fact, that’s one of the most common (and limiting) myths out there—that yoga is only for people who can touch their toes, do a perfect backbend, or fold themselves like origami. And it’s simply not true. Flexibility might happen over time, but it’s never the point.

Where This Myth Comes From

It’s easy to see where the idea comes from. Scroll through social media or peek into a trendy studio, and it can feel like yoga is all sleek leggings and impossible poses. The image we’re often sold is that yoga is about performance—about what your body looks like in the pose.

But yoga has never been about that. Not really.

In its roots, yoga is a practice of awareness. It’s about connection—to breath, to presence, to what’s happening inside. The postures (asana) are just one small piece of the practice, and they were never meant to be the whole story (Iyengar, 2002).

What Yoga Is Really About

At its core, yoga is about cultivating steadiness and ease. As the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali say, sthira sukham asanam—the posture should be steady and comfortable (Sutra 2.46). The goal isn’t to force yourself into a shape; it’s to meet yourself as you are, in each moment.

You don’t need to touch your toes to feel grounded. You don’t need a split or a handstand to breathe deeply. You don’t need to be “good at yoga” to benefit from it.

Yoga is a practice of being with yourself—as you are, not as you think you “should” be.

My Own Journey

I didn’t come to yoga as a dancer or athlete. I came to it looking for space—mentally, emotionally, physically. I remember feeling stiff in certain poses, frustrated in others, comparing myself silently to the person on the mat next to me. But slowly, yoga taught me to let go of that inner critic and shift the question from “Am I doing this right?” to “How does this feel?”

The more I listened inward, the more my body softened—not just in the muscles, but in the tension I didn’t even know I was carrying. That, to me, is the real flexibility yoga brings: the flexibility of the mind, of how we respond to life (Desikachar, 1995).

A Simple Practice to Begin

If you’re feeling curious but unsure, here’s a place to start. Right here, right now:

• Sit or lie down somewhere comfortable.

• Place one hand on your chest, one on your belly.

• Close your eyes or soften your gaze.

• Take five slow, intentional breaths—in through your nose, out through your nose.

Notice what shifts, even if just a little. That’s yoga.

The Invitation

You don’t have to be flexible to begin.

You just have to be willing to show up.

The rest—body, breath, being—will meet you there.

Writing this reminded me how many times I’ve returned to the mat not feeling “ready.” And yet, yoga always meets me there—tender, steady, and patient. I hope it can meet you too, whenever you’re ready to begin.

References

• Desikachar, T.K.V. (1995). The Heart of Yoga: Developing a Personal Practice. Inner Traditions.

• Iyengar, B.K.S. (2002). Light on the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali. Thorsons.

• Patanjali. (circa 2nd century BCE). The Yoga Sutras, Sutra 2.46.

By. Naré Nazaryan