About Me

I’m Tereza, a Baltimore based registered yoga teacher currently pursuing a M.S. in Clinical Mental Health Counseling at Johns Hopkins University. My passion is at the intersection of mental health and movement.

Our bodies and minds are constantly sending us information on the full spectrum between pain and pleasure. Over the last decade, practicing yoga has taught me how to decipher these signals in a mindful way. 

I fell in love with yoga as a teenager in a hot vinyasa class. I had never felt more epic than walking out of the studio drenched in sweat after a hard 90 minutes, I loved pushing through the discomfort of the heat and fine tuning my alignment in every pose. Yoga felt natural to me; the movements were reminiscent of the gymnastics and dance I did as a child. And, since I was a die hard perfectionist, I really would only be interested in doing an activity I was naturally “good” at. 

Through the guidance of my incredible teachers - Dianna Bruschera, Amanda Briody, Lily Dwyer Begg, and Dani Reidy - my definition of “good” has evolved. Rather than enabling my perfectionism, yoga has become the tool through which I deconstruct it. Now, my main priority in practice is cultivating presence. This shift has taught me to make authentic choices, both on and off the mat. I began asking myself questions like, “Am I setting an unrealistic standard by being so hard on myself?” or “Am I making this decision based on my values, or someone else’s expectations?” In a world that constantly tells us what would make us happier, what we "should" be doing, it’s been incredibly freeing to learn to look within for answers—first on my mat, and then in my life.

The challenge of learning to find answers within is that many of us are so disconnected from our bodies and minds that we can’t hear them. Like the culture around us, most movement practices teach us to ignore or push through pain, and we’re often encouraged to do the same emotionally. We spend whole lives suppressing feelings of exhaustion, anxiety, uncertainty, and sadness. Yoga, however, has taught me to view pain and discomfort not as something to avoid, but as valuable signals to be understood.

As a teacher, my goal is to help students of yoga reconnect with themselves and their purpose. I often hear comments like, “I’m too embarrassed for you to see how inflexible I am,” or “I just don’t bend like that.” These statements reflect the way yoga is often portrayed—diluted and, at times, disrespectful to the rich traditions it originates from. My aim is to create a space where everyone feels safe to connect with their body and mind, empowering them to show up as their most authentic selves.