The Power of Outgrowing Without Apology

The Power of Outgrowing Without Apology

Author: Kae Edu

Many of us grew up with a story about what it means to be a “good person.” We were told to forgive no matter what, to understand everyone, to always show compassion—even to those who caused harm. But here’s the truth: Boundaries don’t make you unkind. They make you whole. They remind you that your heart deserves protection, too.

Yoga gives us language for this. In the Yamas, we practice ahimsa—non-harming. That applies not only to others, but to ourselves. Continuing to give, forgive, or stay in spaces that wound us is a subtle form of self-harm. Stepping back, protecting our peace, and choosing clarity is ahimsa in action¹.

At some point, life teaches us that healing often means separating from what—or who—no longer fits. We can’t keep holding on to relationships, habits, or versions of ourselves that no longer match the people we’re becoming. Separation isn’t about bitterness. It’s about clarity and giving yourself the chance to breathe again. That’s satya—truthfulness—living in alignment with what’s real for you, even when it requires letting go¹.

I call this my “I deserve good things” era. And maybe you’re stepping into yours, too. It’s not about having life perfectly figured out—it’s about choosing yourself in every moment. It’s about realizing that losing others doesn’t mean losing yourself. In fact, it means the opposite. I don’t care who I lose anymore as long as I don’t lose myself. I’m becoming more silent these days. I speak less, but my eyes see everything. In yoga, silence often connects to svadhyaya—self-study. There’s wisdom in observing, reflecting, and learning from the space between words². There’s strength in letting your peace matter more than proving your point.

Loss, when you look at it closely, isn’t just loss. It’s preparation. Everything I lose creates space for everything I need. Instead of clinging to what’s slipping away, I’ve learned to open my hands to what’s coming. Just as the tide clears the shore, every ending makes room for something new to arrive. This is aparigraha—non-attachment¹. Letting go of what no longer serves you doesn’t leave you empty—it makes you ready.

This is something I often remind my students: letting go is never wasted effort. Release is how you create space—for what you truly need, for greater things that are on their way, for the version of yourself you’re still becoming. The Eight Limbs remind us that yoga is not just about asana, but about living with awareness, integrity, and spaciousness.

And here’s what I want you to hold close: You don’t need to attach an apology letter to every stage of your growth. Growth isn’t a betrayal of who you were—it’s a love letter to who you’re becoming.

So if you find yourself in a season of outgrowing, let it happen—without apology, without guilt, without second-guessing. Stand firm in your worth. Protect your peace like the sacred thing it is. Trust that what leaves your life is simply clearing the way for what you truly deserve. That, too, is yoga.

🧘 Teaching Note: The Yamas & Niyamas in Practice

As we reflect on outgrowing without apology, here’s how yoga philosophy supports this path:

• Ahimsa (Non-Harming): Protecting your own peace and not staying in harmful spaces is practicing kindness toward yourself¹.

• Satya (Truthfulness): Living your truth may require stepping away from relationships or situations that no longer align¹.

• Svadhyaya (Self-Study): Silence, reflection, and observation create space for deeper understanding of yourself².

• Aparigraha (Non-Attachment): Letting go of what no longer serves you creates space for what you truly need and for greater things to come¹.

These aren’t just concepts on a page—they are living, breathing practices that guide us when life asks us to release, realign, and return to ourselves.