you are a teacher too
- 21 hours ago
- 5 min read

Since a very young age, I have been shy in front of crowds. I felt an extreme discomfort with being seen, with being the centre of attention. So I would choose the front row in classrooms, as a strategy. If I sat closest to the teacher, it meant that fewer eyes would be on me when I spoke. Still, I avoided speaking whenever I could which almost made me fail school.
Already as a two-year-old, I stopped talking almost entirely. Silence became my safety. It led me into therapy at an age where most children are just beginning to explore their voice. It took time before I began to speak again.
And even then, the shyness never fully left. Being seen felt unsafe.
In my teenage years, I didn’t “overcome” the shyness. I armoured it. What once showed up as softness and sensitivity I turned into rebellion. I became tougher, rougher, sharper, meaner. If I had to be seen, I would rather be perceived as distant, even rude, than as sensitive. Than as someone who could be hurt. Because being soft felt like exposure. And exposure felt like danger.
So, for the longest time, I never saw myself as a teacher. I preferred to be the student always. Devoted to learning, but never the one holding the space, using my voice. The idea of leading others, guiding a group, or being the voice at the front of the room felt too vulnerable. Exposing. Almost unnatural to who I believed myself to be. And if I’m honest, parts of it still do sometimes. I still experience moments of !stage fright!. I am still, by nature, a sensitive and often nervous person. But something within me has softened deeply.
Only now have I begun to surrender to the role of the teacher. But I haven't become someone I am not. I started recognising that it was always there withim me. Waiting to be met. Waiting to be trusted. And I began allowing what lives within my own experiences, my perspective, my medicine, to be received. Giving and receiving. And for me, the following three pivotal shifts supported me into this space.
1. birthing a business
Creating my own business changed me in ways I didn’t anticipate. Because when your work is heart-led, it’s never just “business.” It’s an extension of your inner world. Your values. Your truth.
In many ways, it feels like motherhood. Not of a child, but of something you are nurturing, guiding, protecting, and growing. Something that reflects you, but also shapes you in return. My business didn’t just ask me to show up, it required it. To share my work. To stand behind my offerings. To face discomfort. To move through self-doubt.
And in that process, I began to realise that holding space isn’t something reserved for “confident” people, but is rather built through devotion. Through showing up again and again. Learning, unlearning, refining. And especially through setting boundaries and staying humble at the same time.
2. learning from mama cacao
I have always been intentional when it comes to plant medicine as I do not to bypass any growth or healing. Because of her gentleness, mama cacao is the only plant medicine I have truly felt called to work with and eventually share. And even that came slowly, with respect and care. And instead of feeling like she was fixing something, all she did was deeped the connection to myself. She allowed me to arrive deeper into my body, into presence, into connection with the earth beneath me. There is just something so ancient in that connection I have with her. Something grounding, loving, and so primal. So for the first time, I felt that pull to guide and share this form of medicine, and step into that role of the medicine woman, on my own terms.
3. having an aligned brand
This is where it all begins to weave together. Running a business is one thing, but having an aligned brand is something entirely different. An aligned brand is not just visual identity or strategy. It is a container. A living, breathing extension of your heart. A space that holds your voice, your story, your energy. And when that container truly reflects you, you begin to trust yourself more, and you begin to show up differently.
This doesn’t mean pushing yourself into spaces that feel deeply misaligned or overwhelming.
It means gently expanding your edges, and allowing yourself to be seen in ways that feel honest.
Letting your voice exist, even if it trembles sometimes. Stepping into roles you once resisted because something within you is settles. And from that place, confidence doesn’t feel like alignment. Like an upward spiral, where authenticity builds trust, and trust deepens your presence.
we are all teachers.
Somewhere along the way, I realised something that softened everything and released the pressure ~ we are all teachers. Which doesn't mean we need to be standing in front of a room, leading workshops, or guiding groups. But more in the way we live. In the way we express. In the way we choose to show up in the world. Your story teaches. Your presence teaches. Your way of creating, of speaking, of being, teaches. Whether you are aware of it or not.
And your brand, if you allow it, becomes the vessel through which that teaching moves. Your brand is not there to make you into someone else. It is there to hold you as you step more deeply into who you already are, and into the work that only you can bring into this world.
So today, I don’t see teaching the way I once did. Standing above others, or being the loudest voice in the room. But holding space ~honestly and humanly.
“I am here with you. I have walked through something, and I’m willing to share what I’ve learnt ~ not as the "right" truth, but as an offering.”
If you had told my younger self - the girl who chose silence, who hid from attention, who trembled behind curtains, that one day she would hold space for others...
She would have never believed you. But she also didn’t know that her sensitivity didnt mean something was wrong with her. Instead it was her biggest superpower. That it allows her to connect more with herself, her surroundings and others.
And maybe that’s what this is really about... not becoming someone new, but remembering who you were before you decided it wasn’t safe to be seen.
So if you feel the quiet pull ~
to share, to guide, to create, to express
to finally bring your vision into form,
to let your brand become a living extension of your truth,
even if your voice shakes,
even if it feels unfamiliar,
know that it doesn’t have to be loud to be powerful.
You don’t need permission to begin. You don’t need to feel fully “ready.” You only need to be willing to take one step closer to yourself. Because the world doesn’t need more "perfect teachers", but more honest ones. And your way might be exactly what someone else has been waiting for.




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