Weapon of my own construction

I am crazed.

I went to yoga four times last week and have plans to do the same again this week.

I am addicted to the momentary feelings of freedom.

No one talks in class, no one shares baby pictures,

or complains about how they are exhausted from a sleepless night.

There are no children at the studio.

No prenatal classes, or kids classes.

I am free.

 

It is a strange sensation, a new one and I feel as though it is allowing me to forge my new path.

I am working hard to create this new vision for myself, but I am in with both feet!

I am making sure that I feel good, complete and without guilt.

That is no small potato

I am working hard in my art and in my relationships.

If it doesn't feel good, I smile and walk away.

 

Even in its short amount of time, I have found this return to my practice
has already served as a weapon of protection.

I had dinner with my crazy ass SIL and her sons on Friday, at The Barrens mom's place.
My nephews didn't recognize me, and asked The Barren who the stranger was.
Heartbroken, but not surprised I complimented them
on their good "stranger danger" reactions to my greetings.
At the dinner table, my SIL offered me her 5year old again.

Thankfully, this time she did it in front of her mother
and her father in law
 and The Barren
and in earshot of her eldest son.

I didn't respond.

I was floating in a post yoga bliss and all negative bounced off my lovely
iridescent bubble, and floated far away from me and my heart.
I have built a new weapon to battle hurt.
Self love, care and preservation