Confessions of a Yoga Slut

The conversation started immediately Sunday morning upon seeing her.  The guilt and shame that I felt must have been seeping from my pores and sensed immediately.  Call it a woman’s intuition; call it whatever you like, but she knew.  The line of questioning always started the same way, with her trying to catch me in a lie.  As if that made what I did any worse.  As if I were to tell the truth that the outcome of this conversation would change.  It never did, it just added a mountain of self-righteousness to the finality of what was certainly coming.

“Where were you on Saturday?”  The terseness in her voice made me glance at my shoes.  The list of excuses ran through my mind, the more ridiculous on the surface the more plausible they seemed.  Would she believe in a veterinary emergency knowing I had no pets?  A family scuffle by the Uncle that always seemed to cause trouble at family gatherings, even though my family was 3,000 miles away?  My leg was broken when hit by a bus but miraculously healed?

Why did we have to do this in public, at the yoga studio?  I stammered and paused, giving her another stab at me.  “As if I don’t know the answer.  Is it your ex?  The one you used to see all the time before me?  Is it someone new?  Are you dumping me?”  This last question brought a quiver to her voice as she really was fond of me.  We had been seeing each other regularly for 5 months now and the love was growing into something quite special.  We sweat together, shared the beauty of our practice in silent meditation, catching glimpses of our glistening bodies in the mirrors.  She always knew just how to relieve the stress from my day, to make the madness of the world melt away in a centered mind.  She always brought my spiritual self to the forefront and left me feeling gratitude for knowing her.  She kept me in the grace of God during our time together.

How could I tell her that I cheated on her?  That she wasn’t enough?  The guilt was overwhelming but it felt somewhat justified.  My ex had more to offer, she was way hotter, and made me sweat like no one had ever done before.  She was so physical with me, and yet sometimes gentle and holding.  And then of course there was my part time affair, she was the high class one that I couldn’t really afford but liked to hang out with every once in a while.  She was the one I wanted my friends to happen by and see me with; hot and classy.  She also gave me massages after we were together, which was something that neither my ex nor my current situation provided.  I was staring at my feet again, trying to brave up an answer and let her down easily.  Honesty was the best medicine, right?

I looked at her beauty and told her the truth, and saw her face drain of color as she realized the gravity of what I was saying.  My ears numbed as I laid out the truth.  “I am a yoga slut, and I practice at 3 studios.  I love you all, and a man cannot be bound to just one!”

PS – I currently practice daily at Breathe Hot Yoga (www.breathehotyoga.com), located in Seattle at 3 locations.  The “hotter” woman I am referring to is Hot Yoga, Inc. (www.hotyogainc.com), which has multiple locations in the Seattle area.  I practice there sometimes now, especially for Yin, and I used to practice there regularly when I lived in Kirkland.  The “pricey” woman I refer to is Urban Yoga Spa (www.urbanyogaspa.com), in downtown Seattle.  They are all fabulous places and different and wonderful in their own unique way. 

Namaste!

Gary R. Beebe Jr. – Seattle, WA – 3 February 2013