On Overthinking, Retreats, and Showing Up Fully
I’ve always had a talent for overthinking. If something can be analyzed, second-guessed, or internally narrated, I’m already three layers deep. I say that with some humor, but also a lot of tenderness. Overthinking has shaped the way I move through the world. It’s also one of the reasons I’ve clung to yoga so tightly all these years. Because yoga, at its best, gently leads me back to myself. Out of my head and into something quieter, more honest.
This most recent retreat to Roatán reminded me of that in the most unexpected and beautiful way.
I went with the intention of teaching. Holding space. Supporting others in their process. I’ve done that many times before—it’s a role I know well. But almost as soon as I arrived, something inside me shifted. It wasn’t dramatic. Just this quiet, natural slide into presence. Into being. Not guiding or managing or performing, just being me.
What surprised me even more was how sustainable that presence felt. Usually, I feel a constant pressure to show up a certain way. As a studio owner, I carry this tension: be professional, but not too distant; be authentic, but not too much; be open, but still hold it all together. It’s gotten easier with time, but it’s still something I have to navigate with care.
On retreat, that pressure softened. I caught myself loosening. Laughing without overthinking how I sounded. Meeting new people without self-consciousness. Sharing openly, not just the polished parts, but the full range of who I am. I talked about death. Shared my favorite journaling prompts and my go-to margarita recipe. I danced. I even got into a mildly ridiculous disagreement with the guy teaching me to drive the boat (yes, in front of everyone).
It wasn’t about being “on.” It was about being real.
And I want that version of myself to stay. Not just on retreat, but in the day-to-day rhythm of real life.
That’s the thing I keep learning (and re-learning): the moments where we feel most free aren’t necessarily the ones where we’re alone—they’re the ones where we feel safe enough to show up fully, even with others around. That kind of freedom takes practice. It takes rituals. It takes time.
This is why I keep coming back to daily practices like yoga, meditation, and journaling. They’re not about perfection or performance. They’re small, quiet ways to reconnect. And retreats, especially when woven into the fabric of an already intentional life, become this beautiful deepening. A reset. A remembering.
This retreat didn’t “fix” anything. It didn’t need to. What it offered was space. Stillness. Truth. And it reminded me that the more I accept all the parts of who I am the longer I can stay in that clear, grounded, unapologetic space I know is home.
So I’m holding onto this feeling. And I’m making space for more of it.
Not just for me, but for anyone who’s craving that same kind of full, permission-filled aliveness.
If something in this resonates, We’d love to hold space for you. We just opened registration for three upcoming retreats. Each one designed to help you reconnect, reset, and return to yourself. We would love to see you, the full you, there.
Much Love,
Desiree
