When stillness cracked something open and my body remembered what it had been holding for years.

---

My gym offers a bunch of classes.
Different kinds of yoga too.
I assumed if it was free, it couldn’t be serious.

Yin.
No idea what that meant, but I signed up.

It was a noon class.
Mostly retirees.

I walked in late and unrolled my Lululemon mat dead center.
A quiet statement.

Ready to show off my flexibility.
My endurance.
My ability to hold.

I don’t love admitting how competitive I am.
Especially out loud.
In my culture, ego isn’t considered a good look,
especially for women.

I hate the moments before class starts.
People glancing around.
Small talk.
Stretching without stretching.

I sat with my legs crossed under me,
hyper-aware of my body,
trapped in my head,
waiting for it to begin.

The instructor thanked us for being here.
I remember thinking:
Let’s get on with it.

Hand on heart.
Hand on belly.
Feel your breath.
In.
Out.

She said we could close our eyes,
only if we were comfortable.
I almost rolled mine.

Then time slowed.
Actually, thickened.

Nothing to do.
Nothing to win.

Thank yourself for being here, she said.
For choosing yourself for this hour.

I stopped scanning for the next pose
where I could prove something.
I felt the floor beneath me.
That dull, deep ache with nowhere to escape to.

Breathe in love.
Breathe out what you no longer need.

My body recoiled.

I hadn’t come for this.
I’d come to do wellness correctly.
To check a box.

You deserve care.
You deserve love.
We give so much to others and forget ourselves.

That’s when it happened.

Warm tears slipped down my cheeks,
slow at first,
then uncontrollable.

I started sobbing.
Full body.
Shaking.

Something broke open without my permission.

This wasn’t the first time my body gave way, it had been rehearsing this for years as a rag doll.

Suddenly, I wasn’t the best student anymore.

It was cathartic. Violent in its softness.

I couldn’t stop.

The woman next to me moved.
Or left.
I don’t know.
I didn’t care.

No towel.
No containment.
Just tears soaking my chest,
my clothes,
my mat.

For the first time,
I didn’t care who was watching.

When we were cued into downward dog,
I had to fight for air.
I thought I might not make it through the class.
It felt endless.

Still, I moved.

I finished the class numb.

When savasana arrived,
the final stillness,
I couldn’t stay.

I rolled up my mat and walked out,
something heavier
finally set down.

What came after this
was the first dive.