Yoga Turned Ackward

Well…the title may be a bit misleading.

I think that Yoga is kinda always awkward in some form or another .


If that isn't ackward, I'm not sure what is.

Your body is contorting in weird positions that just might be considered pornographic in any other context.  You breathe loud. You bend so your ass is in the face of the person next to you (and today mine was inappropriately close to a lovely looking man-dude with the nicest arms ever-yep, I can  look…I’m single now. But, don’t jump to any conclusions…I’m about as interested  in new men as I am in getting another tattoo).  You have your eyes closed.  You might look like a duck when you should look like a crow. The list goes on.

Lately, yoga has been a new awkward.

While the Original Yoga Lady (from here on out referred to as OYL) is home snuggling with the most beautiful baby, NYL (yep, you guessed it, New Yoga Lady) has taken over and introduced a new side of yoga to me.

Which at first was totally uncomfortable.

It was totally awkward.

See.

NYL was briefly THE yoga lady at the business MP and I own(ed) together.

She was there when MP and BML (Blonde Muscle Lady) were getting their relationship off to a new start (again).

She heard the talk in her classes.

She was there when the ‘big’ expansion of 2011 was shot to shit for many reasons, the major one principally being MP wanted a divorce (Although, truth be told, to be fair, he did say he wanted to “get the business up and running” before we started the divorce) process).

She was unfortunately part of the crumbling of my life.

It was totally embarressing.

First, the business was barely opened when we had to ‘re-structure’ and MP failed to inform her. I had been asked to not ‘participate’ and stupidly I did (kinda).

NYL was put in an awkward position.

So, sadly,  NYL knows my ‘junk.’

I know I shouldn’t be embarrassed by what happened.  I”m wasn’t the one boinking my employee while my pregnant wife was all a scurry attempting to get the family business up to a new level of awesomeness.

But, I was the oblivious one…thinking the late nights and looks between MP and BML were side-affects of being overworked.

I was the one showing up and celebrating MP and BML and the business around town while behind my back they were getting a new life outlined.

I was that lady.

I know it wasn’t my fault

(I do take responsibility for a shaky marriage…that takes two to mess that up…how MP handled it is all on his shoulders).

But, I think that I have always taken pride in being a strong, independent and family-focused wife.  I was MP’s biggest cheerleader and supporter.  I did what I could to make his American Dream his reality.

Yet, while I stood in his shadow, making his world the place he wanted it to be, he was busy looking for happiness elsewhere.

That is the embarrassing part.

I was busy being a mom to our children, busy building what I thought was “our” business, planning for our future while he basically made me look like a blithering idiot as he made googly eyes at women he worked with.

Their clients new about my divorce before I did.

Marriages fall apart.

Divorce happens.

People cheat.

Life goes on.

But, MP was ugly about it.

He forgot to respect our history together.

He forgot to respect us.

It is one thing to want a divorce.

It is quite another to make the other spouse look like a fool in the middle of a small town and in the midst of a very public expansion.

I know that people will say, “Oh…he looks like the idiot” and “It’ll catch up to him”

And maybe it will.

Maybe it won’t.

But, having to come face-to-face to someone who was a pretty integrated part of our world while I was the butt of MP’s jokes was totally ackward.

The first week I saw her again, I couldn’t even make eye-contact.

I struggled the entire practice.

I thought, initially, that it was just ‘her’ style of yoga.

But, the more time I have practiced with her, the more I know it is because I am ashamed.

Not just because of the MP thing…but because of MP and my inability to not let our world’s combustion stay isolated from the business and the people who worked with us.

We owed her more than what she got.

But, luckily, she is forgiving.

The last few weeks in class, she has taken a lot of time to ‘adjust’ me…push me…realign me (remember, I have NO clue about yoga…I’ll do what you do…I’m clueless!, so the help is NEEDED).

And I came to realize that I think she was placed in my MP life and my POST-MP life for a reason.

She is the connective tissue between the ME of MP and the ME of Now.

She makes me remember and think about what happened…and realize that I have to look my past in the eyes just I looked her in the eyes.

Like in most divorces, people pick sides (even if it is unintentional) or just avoid you.

NYL reminded me to look the past in the face confidently.

NYL reminded me that regardless of the past, it is a piece of me that shouldn’t be hidden or ignored…just as she deserved to be celebrated and recognized…my past does too.

Today after class, she gave me a hug.

Not a hug…but a true embrace.

She let me know it was OK.

Regardless of the mess.

It would be OK.

Her warm sincerity was powerful.

I think that she is my true first touch with life with MP.

She looked me in the eye.

Somehow, she let me know it’s OK.

And, I think she’s right.

About these ads

About takingcandyfromababy

I'm a mommy of many and a wife of none. Reconfiguring life as a single mom, doctoral student and resident of suburbia. Avid blogger, fiction writer and freelance writer, chronicling the creases of life that fall between fact, fantasy and fiction. Pretending to know what I'm doing without anyone realizing I'm winging it on a latte.
This entry was posted in divorce, looking back, moving forward, yoga and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Yoga Turned Ackward

  1. I don’t know you, but one thing I know for sure is if you let it be okay (and it sounds like that is the path you are taking), it will be. It’s going to be great!

  2. boobjuice says:

    Wow, Woman. Thank you for sharing your story — wish I didn’t relate. You writing about what happened is a gift others (and probably to yourself). You are inspiring me to share more of my story and face my future with the flexibility and grace you are demonstrating. Right on and thank you!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s