🧘‍♀️👩‍🏫 From Student to Teacher: The Lessons I Never Expected

I’m back from a sunny break! ☀️ (Okay fine… it was more like 50% sun, 50% rain, but let’s manifest the memory we wanted, shall we?) 😅

And as much as I loved the time off: slow mornings, no demoing 100 chaturangas a week and giving my brain a break from the Olympic-level coordination of saying “right” while lifting my actual left arm, I caught myself practically bouncing back into the studio. 🐒

There’s just something about seeing students move, breathe, and light up with those little “aha!” moments: it fills me right up. Class after class, year after year, I feel more grateful (and honestly a little amazed) that I get to do this work.

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on how much teaching has taught me.

When I first started, I didn’t know much, just that I wanted to share yoga. My sequencing was… creative (read: chaotic), my cues were heartfelt (and occasionally made no sense), and I thought being a good teacher meant demonstrating every single pose while talking & breathing (my body now thinks I’m in a committed, long-term relationship with Chaturanga).

But over time, it’s become so much more than guiding movement.

It’s about guiding people.

And here’s a little secret I’ve learned:

👉 You become a “better(?)” yogi when you teach yoga.

👉 One step deeper? You become a “better(?)” teacher when you teach others how to teach. 🌱

We could debate all day about what makes someone a “good” yogi or a “good” teacher.

And honestly? I’d probably swap “good” or “better” for “embodied”… or even more accurately, “present.”

But that’s a rabbit hole for another newsletter. 😉

Basically:

Think practicing yoga makes you wise? Try teaching it. 😅

Want to level up? Teach teachers or collaborate with a crew of yoga nerds. You’ll leave humbled, inspired, and maybe a little dizzy from all the ways to teach Tadasana. 😳 Teaching, or collaborating with teachers is where the magic (and ego checks) happen. Just like in a teacher training: you don’t just learn from the trainers, you learn from collaborating with your fellow trainees.

Here’s my take:

You truly start to master something when you can teach it in a way that makes someone else go, “Ohhh… I feel it now.”

Take anatomy, for example. Sure, I can talk for hours about glorious glutes and sneaky scapulas (and I will, given the chance).

But the real work? Helping you see and feel movement patterns: why they show up, how to adapt, and what it means in context.

That’s not textbook stuff. That’s perception. That’s presence. That’s teacher training.

To me, being a trainer isn’t about handing over theory. It’s about helping you see differently.

So anatomy shifts from “stuff I memorized once” to “a lens I use to read bodies, build flows, and guide from the inside out.”

I read this quote the other day:

“If you want to learn something, read about it.

If you want to understand something, write about it.

If you want to master something, teach it.”

Couldn’t agree more.

Mastery happens in the messy, magical, in-person space of live teaching. 🎤

(Also known as: standing in front of 15 humans who are all blinking at you like “what the heck is a posterior pelvic tilt?”)

Okay, got a bit carried away there... but back to what this newsletter is really about: what teaching has actually taught me.

Here’s the much-anticipated list 😅:

10 Things Teaching Yoga Has Taught Me

1. To be both centered and receptive 👁️

When teaching, you need to stay grounded and centered, but you also need to be receptive to what’s happening around you. Your role is to stay open and attuned to your students while staying present with your own breath, posture, movement, voice, and words. You need to believe that you can have both: self-connection and deep presence with the room. And honestly? This is a skill that’s just as helpful at awkward dinner parties as it is in the studio. 🙈

2. My own anatomy is not the norm 🍑

My body isn’t the blueprint. Teaching pushed me to go beyond personal embodiment and really study how different bodies move, compensate, and adapt.

That’s when my teaching became for you, not just from me.

3. I care way less about what people think of me 🙈

Standing in front of a class felt terrifying at first (hello, vulnerability!). But teaching isn’t about how well you perform, it’s about facilitating a transformative experience for others. It's about your students practice, and really not about you. Once you realize students are way too busy figuring out their own hips and breath to judge your accent or outfit, everything shift.

4. How I teach matters more than what I teach 🗣️

I could teach the same sequence in the same room to the same group of people, but the experience would be completely different depending on how I show up. The energy, intention, and way I deliver the cues are what make the practice come alive.

5. It broadens my understanding of what life can look like 🌏

Especially teaching at Tribes, where the community is full of expats and people from wildly different backgrounds. Every person who walks into class brings their story, values, struggles, and healing paths. Holding space for those beautiful humans has deepened my respect for the diversity of the human experience.

6. Repetition and novelty work hand-in-hand, for both my students and for me 🔁🆕

Repetition builds mastery, confidence & embodiment. Novelty keeps us curious, adaptable & resilient. In my classes, I lean on familiar patterns and throw in unexpected transitions or cues to keep things fresh. It also sharpens my ability to improvise mid-class, when the energy shifts or a planned sequence needs adjusting, I can pivot without losing anatomical logic, proper prep, or my own groundedness. That blend of structure and spontaneity? It’s where the magic happens.

7. Holding space doesn’t mean losing yourself 🫂

Teaching asks us to show up, fully present for our students, while still being honest about where we are. It’s not about faking calm when you're actually frazzled, but it’s also not about unloading your stress onto the class. The art is in staying connected to yourself without making it about yourself. What helps me? I let my personal experience quietly shape the class theme, without making it a therapy session. For example: if I almost cried in the bakery because they were out of pains of chocolat 🥐❌, I won’t rant about it... but I might offer a class on acceptance, and how to not lose your sh*t over small things. 🥲

8. I move way more efficiently & effortlessly now

When you demo hundreds poses a week, your body starts to figure out the most energy-saving way to move. I call it lazy elegance 🦥✨. That, and breathing deeply while cueing, becomes second nature.

9. I’m not for everyone, and that’s a good thing.

Trying to reach everyone dilutes your voice. Teaching became more sustainable (and a lot more fun) when I leaned into what lights me up: anatomy, sequencing, fascia, somatics, teaching teachers, etc. You find your people when you stop trying to be for everyone. 🎯

10. Teaching is a practice.

Every class is a chance to learn, adjust, and grow.

The more I teach, the more I realize: I’ll always be a student too. 🌱

Teaching yoga is a wild, beautiful ride, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

And if you’re feeling the call to deepen your understanding… and maybe even teach yourself one day...

✨ Join me for the 200h Modern Vinyasa Teacher Training at Tribes Academy, starting October 10. We’ll gather for five transformative weekends in Leiden, and wrap it all up with a full week immersed in the magical Ardennes.

Let’s grow together, from curious student to confident teacher (who might still cry over a pain au chocolat now and then 🙈)

Already a teacher? Ready to go deeper into the nerdy and the magical essence of flow?

✨ Check out The Essence of Flow, our 100h advanced training in Southern France, Oct. 14th - 25th. (PS: down there they call "pain au chocolat" "chocolatine" 🥐 Completely useless info… unless you order breakfast)

👉 Just hit reply if you’ve got questions about either training. I’m happy to help!

With true passion,

Fanny