Last weekend I went to yoga as I often do on Sundays. It’s a free community class in a barcade that I walk to from our house.

Full disclosure: I used to be terrible at yoga. Sure, I’d describe myself as athletic. I grew up playing soccer, swimming and running, but yoga? Not my strong suit. Ask any of my close friends and they will tell you. Whenever one of them visited or we went on a girl’s weekend, yoga often landed on the agenda. However, I rarely practiced outside of seeing them.

That all changed two years ago when my husband and I moved. I discovered a free community class in our neighborhood that was challenging and convenient. Free. Walking distance. No sign ups. Late morning start time. Something about the freedom of choice and the convenience made it click into place. And guess what? Last weekend I had a breakthrough.

I sat next to a man with beautiful Nike shoes. This is not an ad. I just loved the shoes. They were bright pink fading into neon yellow. They were bold. As he slid them off, preparing for class, we talked a little before the instructor began.

Y’all, I wanted to be there. I had planned to be there all week but getting into that first downward facing dog wreaked havoc on my legs. I’m a runner and the first poses in yoga always make me question my life choices. Like being in said yoga class.

But by the time we made it to shavasana, I felt strong and accomplished, energized yet calm. Those feelings are why I go to yoga. They’re why I keep coming back even if the first few stretches are brutal.

I was rolling up my mat when beautiful Nike shoes guy turned to me and said, “I can’t see all the way to the instructor, so I always pick someone in the class who’s doing the poses right and follow them. You were my person today. You did all the poses right.”

Me. The girl who sucked at yoga two years ago. I was humbled and awed. And in such instances, I know no other way to respond than by being truthful.

“I used to suck at yoga,” I said. “But then I started coming to this class every Sunday.” As the words fell out of my mouth, I realized something.

You know what? None of us are going to be good at something we just start out doing. None of us are going to be the next J.K. Rowling the first time we sit down to write. None of us are going to build a business the day we decide to show up. None of us are going to be healthy the first day we decide to eat healthfully. These things take practice.

Sure, the decision to start is important as I’ve talked about before, but so is the decision to keep at it. Even when you’re terrible and people give you weird looks because your warrior three looks more like a wobbling golfer teeing up.

It’s okay to do things imperfectly. It’s okay to suck at yoga or cooking or pitching while we practice. I mean how ridiculous is it to think we can just show up and be phenomenal at something? We wouldn’t expect to learn Spanish in one day or become a marathon runner the moment we buy running shoes. We have to give ourselves a break.

So do things imperfectly until you get the poses right. You never know when your Nike shoe guy might show up and point out how far you’ve come.