I am a Yoga Girl Because I am Enough
You know what’s great about getting older? This: I know my worth.
Sit with that. Don’t confuse it as arrogance. But if you do, look at that and ask yourself why.
I hope the younger people reading this learn the lesson sooner than I did - that __you do not need to beg anyone. __
I am confident in what I do, too. I won’t beg anyone to come to a retreat or a workshop. When I started years ago, I did. The fear of not having bodies in the room...
I begged men to love me in the past, too. That time I lay on the floor of my ex-boyfriend’s apartment and whimpered like an animal, "I will die if you don’t love me" coming from my mouth because I really and truly believed I would... I believed I would cease to exist, my personhood would vanish (my belly, legs, and breasts did during anorexia) and I would having nothing left to define me.
I begged the world to love me. But not anymore. I refuse. And that has made all the difference in the world.
My retreats sell out a year in advance, most times. There aren't any fancy marketing or gimmicks. My mom runs my website and helps me with my business. We bicker, we talk ten times a day, we make mistakes, we make up. The thing is, I am good at what I do. I know I am enough. There is not enough money in the world that could buy that knowing.
That does not mean I don’t have crappy days where I feel like I am a shit mom, or I don’t get out of my pajamas, or I feel like I suck. Don’t be fooled.
Trust in who you are. If you put something out into the world, whatever it may be (a book, art, a workshop, food, WHATEVER) you must know this: You are enough.
You are enough. This is not a cheesy slogan, it’s the absolute truth. It does not mean you are perfect. No one is perfect.
When I saw the words “I am a Yoga Girl”, I embraced them even though my IA (Inner Asshole) screamed, "You? You suck at yoga and you are not a girl, lady." I embraced it because I understood that what it really means is this: I am enough. Despite my imperfections. No, BECAUSE of them.
Here’s a little about my enoughness. I hope in the comments you will tell me about yours:
- I can’t hear without my hearings aids. I also have tinnitus (ringing in my ears) 24/7.
- I drink too much coffee.
- I love Netflix and don’t read as much as I should. Also, should is an asshole.
- I have been called "The Don’t Be An Asshole Lady" because I say it a lot. DontBeAnasshole.net. Really, don’t be.
- Sometimes I am an asshole, but mostly I try not to be.
- I dropped out of NYU with a year left and became an accidental waitress in West Hollywood. I stayed at the same restaurant for 13 flipping years, where I met some of the best people of my life and learned more than I did in college.
- My nephew has Prader Willi Syndrome, and autism and I advocate for kids with special needs.
- I talk a lot about anti-racism, and, if you don’t like that, too bad. I am learning to stop weaponizing my whiteness, to unpack my unconscious biases, and to look at my own racism. I am learning what being an ally looks like. A lot of that means listening and shutting the F up.
- I have a 2 year old who I love more than the sky and the stars, but I know being a mom does not make you whole or know love better than anyone else. Read that again.
- I am Jew-ish.
- I take anti-depressants.
- I am a great friend, an okay wife, and a no-bullshit-motherhood mom. I started an Instagram account to chronicle the journeys of parenting without shame called @nobullshitmotherhood. I forget to post there.
- I am a TERRIBLE housekeeper.
- I am a great listener, despite being deaf.
- I have a memoir coming out in 2019 called On Being Human, the same name as my workshop, and I am going to take the world by storm and show them a deaf, sometimes depressed, college dropout who has no idea what she is doing can be a huge success.
- I created #realmotherfuckinglife and #nopantssunday, and they both speak for themselves. At least they speak for me. They sum me up in two hashtags.
- I did not think I wanted children. I had an ectopic pregnancy 5 years ago and felt grief, but mostly relief.
- I changed my mind when I got pregnant with my son.
- Sometimes I let my son eat ice cream for breakfast.
- My son is Jew-ish and Muslim and whatever the heck he wants to be. My husband speaks Farsi to him. I speak in made-up songs and a little Yiddish I learned from my Bubbe.
- I had such a bad eating disorder for so long that it’s a miracle I am alive.
- I try and live by the words "How may I serve?"
- I am excited AND terrified about having my memoir being a thing in the world.
- I love naps, and I am not talking some 15-minute bullshit.
- I still miss my dad who died when I was 8. Grief lives in my body.
- I don’t buy into the idea that we all have just one “purpose” or “soulmate.” Our purpose is to love. Beyond that, change your mind as much as you damn well want.
- I used to think my job defined me (waitress). Then I woke up.
- I used to think my weight defined me. Then I woke up.
- I used to be ashamed of not being able to hear. Oh, shame is so tricky. I am no longer ashamed. I am grateful for my hearing aids.
- I am very loved because I love so damn deeply.
- A lot of times I think I am not loved at all- that everyone hates me. Then I remember: it’s worse than you think; they’re not thinking about you at all.
If you take anything away from this article, I hope it is this:
The day you stop begging for confirmation is the day you are free.
How are you a Yoga Girl? Meaning: How are you enough? Tell me in the comment below.
Want a little help reminding yourself you're enough? Meditate about it with me on oneOeight.com.