Single Dad Seeks Juliet
I used to exercise every day, chasing the perfect body and energy I needed to be the kind of wife Raleigh would be proud to have on his arm at company events and the like. Surrounded by women who looked like real-life versions of The Stepford Wives, I’d been determined to at least maintain the physique that had drawn Raleigh to me in the first place.
I can see now how toxic my whole lifestyle was—leaning so heavily into someone else’s opinion of me and hingeing my decisions about my own body on it—but when I was in it, all I could see was the outside world encroaching on our bubble.
I didn’t want it to burst.
Clearly, my tactic worked really well.
Gina looks up from the front desk and smiles when she sees me. I do my best to return the gesture, but I have to admit, I feel like the failures of my life and my months-long lapse are written all over my face.
“Holley!” she greets cheerfully. “It’s so good to see you again! How are you?”
The tension in my smile eases a little, thanks to the fact that she isn’t pushy or forward about asking where I’ve been.
“I’m doing pretty well, thanks. How are you?”
“Doing great. You’re going to love today’s class. Judy always makes it fun on Wednesdays.”
“That’s fantastic.” I smile at her simple familiarity and fond memories of Judy’s classes. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
With a little goodbye wave toward Gina, I walk past her reception desk and head through the door that leads to the large studio. Since the room is already filled with quite a few people, I find a spot closer to the back of the space and roll out my mat.
A few of the women chat with one another, and I think I might recognize some of them, but for the sake of my sanity, I keep to myself.
I spend the next several minutes stretching and getting ready for class before Judy walks in and greets us.
“Good morning, everyone!”
We all chirp our hellos back as she sets up her own mat and grabs a wire from the stereo to hook up her phone.
As a soft melody begins to play, she leads us in our opening stretches and meditation, and then starts the routine of taking us through all of the harder poses and movements.
Being back at yoga for the first time in almost seven months feels both refreshing and challenging, but I’m not nearly as flexible as I used to be and when asked to perform, my muscles put up a much larger protest.
Following Judy’s lead, I push my hands into the mat and adjust my body into Downward-Facing Dog and exhale. Rapidly, along with a burst of air, I feel as though a tremendous number of burdens lift from my muscles.
My ex-fiancé and his new wife and baby.
The feelings of inadequacy and identity loss.
The desertion of motivation.
All of it leaves me in a rush, and when I take a deep, steady inhale of air back into my lungs, only a fraction of the tension that was there before comes back.
It’s taken me a while to separate what I used to do from what I want to do. And at first, it felt like I needed to make a clean break from everything. From my neighborhood, the people I knew, the routine I’d established. It all felt rooted in Raleigh Reynolds. Not nearly enough of it felt rooted in me.
But the time off has done me good, and I really have to say, I feel like I’m finally grasping at a whole new perspective. A fresh, invigorating outlook on my life.
I can still be the woman I was before, with a few modifications. But I can also be better. I just have to find out exactly who I want to be now.
The truth is, I love working out. Not during the struggle of getting back into shape—I’m not a psycho—but when I’m feeling good and challenging my body regularly, I feel energized and ready to take on the world.
I think I’d like to feel that consistency again, but with much fewer restrictions on the rest of my life. Work out, get energized—but for the rest of it? Just let it come. I don’t want to restrict carbs or count macros or any of that bullshit, and I don’t want to focus on losing five pounds for the rest of my life.
I want to feel healthy. Strong. Confident. But I want to be those things while also eating a fucking donut when I want to.
My phone buzzes from its spot on the floor, and I reach over as inconspicuously as possible to glance at the screen. It’s a message from Jake, and my impulsive excitement to see what he has to say almost throws me completely off-balance.