From Physics to yoga

I often ask myself why I chose to study physics. The most logical answer today might be: to meet my love.

But if I look back, I remember being deeply drawn to weird things, I used to loved astrology—not the horoscopes in magazines, but real astral charts, made just for you. They felt fascinating and oddly true. I was also into tarot. I had my own deck and even took several classes. I stopped reading them eventually, after I didn’t like what the cards were saying… but I do remember many things turning out to be eerily accurate.

And that made me wonder: how is that possible? How can something predict the future? That curiosity stayed with me. I wanted to bring science into the unknown. I wanted to understand the metaphysical through the lens of physics—to find out how things actually work.

But as a student, I drifted away from all that. I never touched my tarot cards again, never spoke of astrology. Life pulled my attention elsewhere—toward more “serious” things, like understanding what really happened during the dictatorship in my country, beyond the protective bubble my parents had created.

I kept moving—studying, partying, getting lost, and slowly finding myself again. There were also years of being pushed into therapy and a small pharmacy’s worth of pills… but that’s a longer story for another time.

Everything paused when I moved to Princeton. For the first time, I had space—an entire month—to stop and think. I had been walking a path for so long without asking: Is this the path I want? What do I really want?

I had just finished my Master’s in Science and was considering a PhD—possibly in a place far from my boyfriend. But after three years of long-distance, we’d had enough. There were no programs in Princeton that matched my interests, and the idea of spending even more time apart felt unbearable.

He gave me space to decide—no pressure, only love and support. And I chose him. I chose to build a life together, to prioritize happiness over academic ambition. I realized I felt happiest when I was with him, not when I was counting the months until our next visit.

But Princeton was hard. Everyone seemed smarter, busier, and I felt like I was doing nothing. So I reinvented myself. Still on a tourist visa, I began volunteering at the local library—and that’s where I found my thing: teaching.

I started teaching science classes for kids, in Spanish. Some of my students were children of Latino immigrants who refused to speak Spanish because, in their eyes, it meant their parents washed dishes or worked as nannies. That broke my heart.

Later, someone reminded me that what I loved most during my scientific days was teaching. Preparing lessons, helping solve problems, making things seem less intimidating—and seeing that spark when something clicked. That’s what lit me up. And it still does.

Then life shifted quickly. I started to work in New York doing research—what I thought was my thing. But I soon realized that was not the life that I wanted, and the stress of commuting brought back my health issues. Yoga became my medicine.

Eventually, I got pregnant, left that job, and took another closer to home—something unrelated to physics, math, or science, but deeply connected to helping people. And when my daughter arrived, everything changed.

I chose to stay home and watch her grow. That first year was beautiful. (Except for the mastitis—motherhood stories for another day.) The second year… was harder. I felt lost again, especially with the uncertainty of moving to another country.

But then, I found my path. I discovered what truly makes me happy—what I want to do for the rest of my life.

I found my thing.
I’m here to help.
To help people understand, to open up to new possibilities, to remind others (and myself) that just because science can’t explain something yet doesn’t mean it isn’t real. And everyday there are new findings about meditation helping to regulate the nervous system, or new findings in biomechanics or/and fascia

Now, I teach again. I’m helping again. And I’m learning—still exploring how things work, but from the heart instead of the head. I let my heart guide what I teach and how I teach. And I’m growing in the process.

I had been teaching yoga for such a long time, always getting amazed by new discoveries me or my students feel or experience. Helping them to reconnect with their bodies, rediscover mobility, and feel freedom again. And they help me stay grounded. They remind me to savor each moment, to enjoy this beautiful life.

So yes, I’m still exploring how things work—just from a completely different perspective.

If you ask me, physics and yoga?
Not so different after all. 😊