February 22, 2020

An Ode to my First & Only True Love.

I was supported in a way I could never have imagined in my life.

Fully accepted.

Each day, I would count the minutes until I could relish in the few stolen moments we would spend together. I would share my day; at times, laughing, at times, crying. I felt safe, accepted, and knew deep inside no matter how I felt, space was always held for me.

I never felt judged—it was a beautiful experience like no other. Each time I relaxed a little bit more, allowing myself to get lost in our flow.

During our time, I learned more about myself. What I wanted. What I needed. It almost became an addiction. Sometimes twice a day we would meet. I couldn’t get enough. Our breaths became one…breathing in and out. Part of me knew it wasn’t healthy. Spiritually, I knew I should not be so attached—but I couldn’t stop myself.

When I moved my body into new, unfamiliar positions, I felt this rush of fear mixed with a rush of satisfaction when things seemingly came together even if just for a moment. My breath would become louder, and my heart would beat faster, beads of sweat forming on my brow. My eyes would glaze over—and then, nothing.

Only bliss. My mind was blank.

At times, I would wonder why I put myself through this. Our time together was never enough. Halfway through, I was emotionally and physically exhausted but knew, in the end, I would walk away refreshed. We had our favorite spots, usually in a corner, close to a wall; it gave me support. At times, we spiced it up and would move to the middle, not minding the attention. We continued trying different places, spaces, and each time, it felt like coming home.

We had an undeniable rhythm between us; it was deeply personal and sacred. I couldn’t imagine life any other way. I knew something inside of me had irrevocably changed. I was like a lotus flower unfolding, each day a new petal revealed.

I couldn’t keep it to myself and began sharing with others. Everyone should feel like this. It was no longer a secret. Days after we would meet, I would randomly find myself humming and laughing. A knowing smile would appear, reminding me of our moments together.

Friends would say you’ve changed. You’re glowing. I responded. Yes, I know. I’ve never been happier. They seemed curious and a bit jealous. Wanting to know more and share the same experience. I was hesitant at first—protective, even. In a selfish way, I wanted to keep our secret to myself, but I knew I couldn’t hide forever.

Slowly, I would reveal the root of my happiness and introduce them. Some were resistant and clearly uncomfortable. Others remained curious and open. I welcomed each of them with open arms, hoping one day they too would accept my new love.

We’ve ebbed and flowed together over the past few years. I haven’t always been the committed one, but I knew I could always come back. I sometimes question why I can’t commit; I’ve never felt a love so deep. The answer? I’m scared. Scared of seeing myself even deeper than I ever have before.

Each time I return, we share a different experience. I’m never sure what I will feel in the end. But when I turn to my side, push myself up, bring my hand to my heart, and gently open my eyes, I know—I’m right where I am supposed to be.

I believe in my soul that everyone should have this feeling at least once in their life. A love like no other. A love for yourself that cannot be explained, only experienced.

I’m no longer ashamed to declare my love—it’s time for everyone to know—my sacred yoga mat. I will never leave you.

You have made me into who I am today. I am grateful.


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