An athlete. A wife. A dog mom. A student. A yoga teacher. Fertile.
I am adjusting to life in a 40+ year old body. A life that neglects its yoga practice. That no longer skis or snowboards. That isn’t on a soccer team. That isn’t on any team. There’s no dog to hike with. There’s no dog to take to the park. There aren’t any students to adjust, love up, nurture, chant with or bow to. There’s no ring on my finger to tell me I am loved. And my womb is now and will likely forever be…empty.
I am attempting to fit into this new skin. To try her on and see how she feels. Honestly, she’s a bit uncomfortable. The adjustments are excruciatingly hard to make. The one for which I have no control is the hardest. Luckily, that’s only one thing, and there is no fighting a biological clock. Everything else is up to me. It’s my choice. My prerogative. My opportunity.
I choose to re-become a yoga teacher. Or at least practitioner. I choose to re-become a snowboarder. Eventually, I will choose to become a dog momma again. I am ok with letting go of Terra, the athlete. But I choose to re-become fit, healthy, strong and vibrant. I choose to re-become that Adirondack chick the one who tore up the mountain no holds barred. And most importantly, I will choose to know that I am loved, if only by myself, with or without a ring on my finger.
My closet holds a few of the things attached to things I am no longer. My wedding dress for one, needs to be cleaned and then sold. My engagement and wedding ring. I decided last night the wedding ring will be resized and worn on my left thumb. I love it too much to let it go. My engagement ring, I will likely make into ring stacks…or just keep it forever. I am really not sure.
Lots of people say you should get rid of things that no longer fit – release them so you can start fresh. But I am not ready to admit defeat. I am crawling back to my yoga practice (Jivamukti tonight) and knees be damned I will dust off my snow board this winter. I have goals for 2017 and they include fitting back into my adorable Burton boarding pants. Fuck you if you think a 42 year old shouldn’t wear them. I am not ready nor willing to let go of that part of my SpiritStyle.
My collection of “obnoxious” t-shirts is astounding. I only stopped wearing them because I got married and gained so much weight from all the fertility treatments and depression. Now that I am neither married, depressed nor praying for fertility and I am gravitating back to my t-shirts. And I am ok with that. That is a part of me that was lost in marriage and depression. In taking off the weight I am unearthing her and bringing her back to light.