On Monday, I made a video about finding my first paid yoga teaching job, here’s the video if you’re interested.
My first class was yesterday. I spent all of Monday evening preparing for it. I couldn’t sleep well. I woke up really early to eat something and digest it before heading out. I was excited.
I arrived, I unlocked the dojo as they taught me. I turned on the lights. I turned on the heat. I set up my mat and waited for my students to arrive.
And nobody came.
A gazillion logical reasons were easily accessible to my mind, queued one after another. I was a last minute replacement, people didn’t know a class was supposed to take place. The instructor before me probably told the students she’s no longer teaching Tuesdays. It was 6:30am and people didn’t want to wake up for a new instructor. Everyone’s cars broke down or ran out of gas. Babies are crying, children had to go to school.
Somehow I had the entire dojo to myself. I walked around the unfamiliar cold black mats. Danced on it. I kicked the punching bag a couple of times. I was even tempted to do a cartwheel and decided that’s probably an awful idea. After 20 minutes of frolicking freely, emotions swaying between the wonderment of being alone in a studio that’s not mine and disappointment of having nobody showed up, I decided it was time to go. Nobody was coming after all.
I came home and Franklin tried cheering me up. It was only 7am in the morning, Franklin got ready to leave home for work while I laid in bed, still trying to make sense of my odd morning.
After he left, I broke down. It wasn’t just disappointment.
It was shame.
Even though it was not my fault, it was not within my control, I felt extremely triggered. The loneliness, me trying to rationalize the situation, me trying to tell myself there’s nothing wrong, there’s no need to feel things.
But I felt it. I was alone. I was unseen. Nobody showed. Unworthiness. Disappointment. I felt a deep overwhelming sensation that something was utterly bad and wrong with me. Trying to be brave was bad, wanting was bad. Something about this situation was painful and no logical reason sufficed. I sat with the shame and I fell asleep. I felt better after getting some rest. I still felt shitty and I tried my best to be kind to myself. Even though I had wanted to take a yoga class, I decided it was more loving to be completely with myself.
Later in the evening, I found my first stretch mark. I’ve been so diligent about moisturizing too. Perhaps I was a bit dehydrated today.
When I told Franklin and a few female friends about my new stretch mark, I did not receive much comfort.
“Welcome to mommyhood.”
“Everyone gets those, y’ know, even when they’re not pregnant.”
I felt a clenching sensation. I recognized shame.
I feel like I’m turning ugly and I shouldn’t even be feeling the way I feel.
I can understand why some pregnant women can develop depression. All of their emotions regarding their physical changes become minimized and trivialized. It was shameful to have complaints. Everyone wants you to just stay happy. It is isolating and shameful when I don’t feel that. It was shameful to still have resistance towards the changes of becoming a mother.
I believe the physical body is the manifestation of all the happenings in the emotional body. Pregnant women go through wave after wave of self transformation, exploration and discovery and healing. We’re physically and emotionally stretching so much to create life, to transform from a maiden into motherhood.
I spoke with my baby last night, “you gave mommy a stretch mark today.” But then I realized, that’s not true.
“You taught mommy how to be more loving and accepting of myself today.”
Thank you for reading!