When I was 13, a spinal surgeon gave me some unsolicited career advice. “Scoliosis won’t ruin your life,” he said, looking over his glasses, “unless you want to be a bikini model.” As a young teenager, I hadn’t really thought about job options, let alone modeling, but his words stung. They also turned my situation into a lose-lose choice: either have a painful surgery to fuse metal rods to my spine, or live with a permanently twisted back.
Until then, I had only thought of my curved spine in terms of how it felt inside: the pain. Now, I became aware of how it looked from the outside: a disfigurement. Something to hide. That didn’t help me as a teenager in the age of Instagram. I decided against the surgery because of the risks and the long time I’d have to miss from school, but the surgeon’s careless comment left me feeling ashamed.
His approach was very different from my childhood dance teacher’s, who first noticed my scoliosis. After a lesson, she kindly asked if my hips felt uncomfortable—they were clearly uneven in my leotard—and suggested I see a doctor.
That led to hospital visits twice a year, with huge MRI machines and adults with cold fingers who stuck stickers on my spine. The tests showed I had thoracolumbar scoliosis, which means the curve is between my chest and lower back. The curve tilted my pelvis, making my hips and legs uneven.
The most obvious sign was that my right hip was higher than my left, which made my torso lean sideways like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. This gave me an hourglass shape on the right side of my waist and a straight line on the left.
As I went through my teenage years, scoliosis became the biggest part of my insecurities.
Like eight out of ten cases, the cause of my scoliosis was unknown, and it couldn’t have been prevented by better posture, exercise, or diet. Only surgery could have fixed the curve—and for years, I regretted not having it.
Under loose clothes, my scoliosis isn’t very noticeable—unless you see a bit of ankle on my longer leg. Summer shorts and miniskirts are harder to wear because they sit unevenly on my hips and thighs. Sadly, bikinis are the worst. The thin string bottoms slide down the straight side of my waist, so I have to tie a tight, lopsided bow that digs into my skin and makes the front panel gap in the middle.
For most of my life, the surgeon’s words echoed in my head every time I tied that bow. Scoliosis didn’t compare well to the filtered bodies on social media or my friends’ symmetrical waists. As I grew up, it became the centerpiece of my insecurities, which led to disordered eating and an unhealthy relationship with my body.
I believed the condition made me different. Lesser. Unworthy. So I tried to prove my worth through schoolwork. By the time my GCSEs came around, I had turned into Will from The Inbetweeners, skipping sleep, food, and basic hygiene because: “You can’t revise in the shower, Jay, the books get wet!”
A therapist wisely suggested I learn “coping strategies” for stress and recommended yoga. The next week, I went to a class—and it was love at first sun salutation. The calm, flowing movement soothed my frazzled nerves and quieted the constant buzzing of my mental to-do lists.
But there was something else, too. I found the sequence of chaturangas, twists, and hip-openers much more enjoyable than physiotherapy exercises. Visits to osteopaths and physios had become a regular part of my life, along with worksheets that told me to do boring daily movements. Their bullet-point lists were hard, joyless, and above all, time-consuming. But if I skipped them, I paid with pain.
Yoga was my salvation. Driven by physical discomfort and a love for the practice, I kept going.Yoga stayed with me through university, the pandemic, and my career in journalism – a welcome relief after long hours standing in press pens.
Whether I was working in refugee camps on the Ukrainian border or following King Charles on his state visit to Kenya, my days always ended with a downward dog. With just YouTube and a mat – or sometimes a hotel carpet – I could practice anywhere. And I did.
When I decided to take a break from journalism in 2025, yoga became the cure for burnout and inspired me to become a qualified instructor. My training valued one thing above all else: consistent practice.
‘Truly accessible to everyone’: how to start yoga
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I learned that yoga, which began more than 5,000 years ago in ancient India and predates the Roman Empire, was mainly a philosophical study. The physical postures came later, designed to prepare the body for meditation. Seen this way, yoga is a lifelong practice. You work at it, day by day. That’s why it’s called a yoga practice.
Because of my scoliosis, I’ve practiced daily for over a decade. For the first time, I felt grateful for my uneven spine – it connected me to a respected tradition with countless mental and physical benefits. Instead of feeling frustrated that some poses were, in yoga terms, “unavailable to me,” the training helped me see scoliosis in a new light. It became my motivation. My reason to get on the mat.
Now, I’m a qualified instructor at a hot yoga studio. Free from shame, I’ve even updated my website with photos of my Lycra-clad body in different poses. It’s not quite bikini modeling, but it’s close enough for me.
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Frequently Asked Questions
Here is a list of FAQs based on the article A moment that changed me I started yoga and saw my scoliosis in a surprising new way
BeginnerLevel Questions
1 What is scoliosis
Scoliosis is a condition where the spine curves sideways often in an S or C shape instead of being straight
2 Why did the author start yoga
The author started yoga to help manage the chronic back pain and discomfort caused by their scoliosis
3 What was the surprising new way the author saw their scoliosis
Instead of seeing their curved spine as a flaw or a problem to fix they began to see it as a unique part of their body that could be strong flexible and capable
4 Did yoga straighten the authors spine
No Yoga didnt make the curve go away It changed how the author felt about their body and helped them move with more ease and less pain
5 Is yoga safe for people with scoliosis
Generally yes but its very important to work with a knowledgeable teacher who can modify poses for your specific curve Not all poses are right for everyone
Advanced Questions
6 How does yoga help with the specific pain of scoliosis
Yoga helps by strengthening the weaker side of the back stretching the tighter side and improving overall body awareness This can reduce muscle spasms and improve posture
7 What is the biggest mental shift the author experienced
The biggest shift was moving from a mindset of fixing a broken spine to one of befriending and caring for a unique body They stopped fighting their curve and started working with it
8 Are there any yoga poses that are bad for scoliosis
Yes Deep backbends and extreme twists can sometimes aggravate a curved spine Its best to avoid forced extreme positions
9 How can a beginner with scoliosis start yoga safely
Start with a gentle therapeutic class Tell the teacher about your curve before class Focus on poses that lengthen the spine and build core strength like CatCow and Mountain Pose
10 Can yoga replace medical treatment for scoliosis
No Yoga is
