The most frustrating thing people would tell me when I had an infant was, “time flies.” It was impossible to believe while running on no sleep, relying purely on instinct to parent her. But, as much as it pains me to admit it, they were right. Now, I find myself with an empty room at home and traveling cross-country every other month just to see her. And that’s not even the hardest part. Navigating my identity with children who no longer need me in the same way has been an ongoing journey. The “mom” label has filled me with so much pride, but I’m realizing it can’t be my entire identity—neither can teaching yoga, for that matter. I’m starting small. During my last trip to NYC, I found a tea place I’d visit every day, just to hang out by myself. At home, I go to Pilates and have started dating again. It may seem trivial, but every time I do something just for me, it feels like a small victory. This process isn’t always easy. Sometimes it’s painful; sometimes, I feel lost. But I’m ap...