Twist, breath, bend.

Yeah. Just call me Yoga Bitch.

I jumped on the hot yoga express and have not looked back. Go ahead, roll your eyes. Start to panic that I might start writing things like "change is the beginning of change" and all that spiritual stuff that people relate to yoga doing, hemp wearing, no shampooing types of people. But no worries because last night something threw me off my yoga track.

I love my yoga studio. I am rather protective of it as I see it as MY studio. MY space. MY MY MY MY MINE! and you are not allowed to go there!  It's a place where no one knows me, where they don't care who I am and what I do or the fact that I wear dead cows on my feet and body can't stand on my head. It's a beautiful relationship where I am without my phone, no one asks for advice and I just get sweaty and gross like all the other people practicing hot yoga (but with about 80 extra pounds to twist and contort). I like being slightly unknown while I am there. I enjoy the peace. Until last night.

As I was sitting waiting to go into the practice room two women came into the studio. I recognized their voices, I went to high school with them. I immediately ran out onto the street and into oncoming traffic to get away wrapped every towel I had around me to cover my extra 80 pounds. Yup, I all of the sudden became the most self conscious high school girl you have ever seen, and I hated it.

Even while in practice I was scanning the room to see if they were looking at me, noticing my thunder thighs rubbing  sweating back and unbalanced tree pose. I scanned and scanned wondering what in the WORLD THEY WERE SAYING ABOUT ME in the silent practice no speaking room, because of course they have telepathic powers allowing them to judge me without saying A SINGLE WORD.

I was so afraid that I would bump into them in the change room Oh, HI! I have not seen you in 10 years and now here I am, naked. SO what did YOU do after high school? that I stayed in the practice room well after everyone left. And you know what? I didn't even see them. They didn't notice me. And I lost a perfectly good yoga practice to my paranoid high school self. Lesson Learned!