How Surgical Menopause Flipped My World and My Asanas Upside Down,

How Surgical Menopause Flipped My World Upside Down

Finding Strength, Self-Love, and a New Beginning Through Yoga - By Terrie Foster

Reading time: 3 minutes

Embracing the Second Spring: Navigating Menopause with Strength, Style, and Lycra

How Surgical Menopause Flipped My World—and My Asanas—Upside Down, Leading Me to the Best unapologetic Version of Myself

This is your second spring—celebrate it, and live unapologetically.

The day I was wheeled into surgery for a hysterectomy, I knew my life would change forever. What I didn’t expect was just how abruptly and overwhelmingly those changes would descend upon me. As the anaesthesia wore off, I was catapulted into a world I wasn’t ready for, menopause*. It wasn’t a gradual shift, like a sunset over the horizon, but more like being hurled into a thick, unyielding brown fog. And it was disorienting.

As a yoga teacher, I was accustomed to having control, not just over my practice, but over myself. Standing before a room full of students, guiding them through asanas and breathwork, had always filled me with purpose. But now, even the act of standing felt like a monumental task. My body wasn’t the same. My mind wasn’t the same. The fog had settled in, and every day felt like I was wading through a swamp of fatigue, anxiety, and mood swings.

Returning to teaching too soon after the surgery was my first mistake. I wasn’t ready, but I pushed myself anyway. I didn’t want to let my students down, But the truth was, I hadn’t given myself the time I needed to recover, to renew. I was trying to be who I was before the surgery, ignoring that my body and mind had undergone a seismic shift.

It took weeks of pushing and pulling myself through each day to finally acknowledge that I needed time out. It wasn’t an easy admission. As yoga teachers, we’re not just instructors; we’re nurturers, guides, and role models. Taking a step back felt like abandoning my students, but it was what I needed. It was what my soul was screaming for.

During this time, I realized that recovery wasn’t just about healing physically. It was about rediscovering myself. The version of me who loved to teach, who found joy in every movement, who felt confident and in control, she wasn’t gone, just buried under the weight of this new reality. I had to peel back the layers, to fall back in love with who I was in this new menopausal stage of life.

The journey wasn’t linear. I had good days, where the fog would lift, and I could reconnect with my practice. But there were also dark days, where the weight of it all felt crushing. I found solace in small victories, finding peace in savasana, learning to listen to my body when it cried out for rest, and most importantly, accepting that this was my second spring, not a decline.

Rediscovering my teaching became a pivotal part of my recovery. I had to reconnect with why I became a yoga teacher in the first place, the joy of guiding others towards balance, the satisfaction of seeing a student achieve something they once thought impossible. I began to adapt, finding new ways to teach that didn’t drain me. I became more present, more compassionate, both to my students and to myself.

As I slowly returned to the studio, I noticed something incredible. I was becoming the most confident, unapologetic version of myself. The fog hadn’t lifted entirely, but I had learned to navigate through it. I no longer tried to force myself into the mould of who I was before. Instead, I embraced who I was becoming. I found strength in my vulnerability, in my honesty with my students about what I was going through. They didn’t need a perfect teacher; they needed a real one.

Impostor syndrome can be real when we hit menopause. The doubts creep in, am I still good enough? Can I still do this? The answer is a resounding yes. It’s just that our best selves now come with a deeper understanding, a fiercer resilience, and a renewed love for life. Menopause isn’t the end; it’s a powerful new beginning.

Now, I celebrate this second spring. I wear my experience as a badge of honour, knowing that every challenge has only made me stronger. I’m not the same yoga teacher I was before, but I’m a better one, more empathetic, more aware, and more in love with the person I’ve become.

To anyone facing a similar journey, know this: You are not alone. Embrace the change, give yourself grace, and remember that it’s okay to take time to recover and renew. Fall back in love with yourself, and know that on the other side of the fog, there’s a brighter, more confident you waiting to emerge. This is your second spring, celebrate it, and live unapologetically.

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