Yes, the statement “and then I cried” could be used in so very many different avenues of my life.
I witnessed a family singing the birthday song to a loved one. And then I cried.
I drove down a road lined with beautiful corn fields. And then I cried.
I listened to
“One Song Glory” on the RENT soundtrack. And then I cried.
That one scene at the end of the Miley Cyrus movie? Back when she was Hannah Montana, not tongue-out, raunchy Miley. Yeah, I cried over that too.
If you’ve been reading my sporadic (at best) posts over the years, you’ve probably figured out that crying is my middle name. It’s the only way I know how to deal with emotions, really. I don’t often get angry. I don’t often get visibly stressed. I don’t often shout joyful expressions.
I just cry. Over the smallest things. Over the biggest things. Over ALL. OF. THE. THINGS. I’m really great at just feeling all of the feels.
I spent years thinking this was a bad thing. But with time, I’ve embraced it.
Tonight I participated in my very first hot yoga class, which also happened to be only my very second yoga class ever.
Not only did that 95 degree room loosen my muscles, it loosened my stress, my disappointments, my anger, my sadness, and apparently every other feeling I haven’t truly dealt with as of late.
As I laid in my final pose, arms stretched above me, legs extended to the front of the room, tears streamed down my face. I cried. Like, really cried. The feelings that I didn’t even know I was holding in came flooding out. I managed to hold back the ugly cry even though any eyes that could potentially see me were pointed to the ceiling. I just cried. And it felt so right.
I can’t wait to go back for more.