Comfort

It’s almost unfathomable that 2022 is over, even though I feel like I’ve aged eight years. So much so, that I keep thinking it’s already 2024. Ha - imagine that! Frankly, a lot has happened this year - both good and bad. However, I’d rather not focus on the bad or even the good, per se. There’s a much more prominent thing that I’ve done this year, which makes me beam with pride even just typing this sentence.

It’s kind of obvious what I’ve done, no? I’m pretty on the nose with my blog titles, you know. In 2022, I’ve shattered my comfort zone multiple times. There is little triumph in life if we don’t reflect on what’s happened, and, since this is my blog, I’m going to do just that.

In 2022, I pushed myself to go outside of the mental barriers I set concerning physical activity. For years, I have worked out just as anyone has, but I did so in crippling fear that I was taking up too much space. I felt as though I didn’t deserve to take up space or to be seen. Emotional vulnerability comes easily to me but allowing myself to have physical vulnerability felt impossible. By physical vulnerability, I mean that I didn’t want anyone to witness my physical capabilities and movement. However, that sort of mindset can feel like a prison, right? My body is my space. It’s my home.

So, I chose to return to myself. Truth be told, I’m still working on it, but I’ve never felt more anchored in my being, spirit, and body. I did something I thought I despised: yoga. As spiritual and religious as I am, I strongly disliked yoga because it made me feel incapable. However, this attempt at practicing yoga was different, because I took that feeling of incapability and turned it into hope. The hope that I will grow into myself. The hope that I will find a space beyond judging. The hope that I will learn how to just be.

Beyond yoga, I took my first real hip-hop class. This probably sounds silly but it truly was so anxiety-inducing. Frankly, I’m like a baby giraffe who’s barely learned how to walk. My limbs are flying all over the place and I always manage to trip over nothing. More than that, the thought of someone looking at me as I attempted to have any semblance of rhythm instantly brought the heat of embarrassment to my cheeks. So, yes, that’s exactly how I felt when I took my first hip-hop class. I had no rhythm or any inkling of remembering the next eight-count, but I had fun. I had so much fucking fun. The thought of depriving myself of this experience in the future supersedes any potential embarrassment I could feel. As I looked up at myself in the studio mirrors, I saw that familiar glow of hope. I don’t want to rob myself of that hope ever again. I’m so happy I went to my first class a few weeks ago, because who knows what I’ll be able to do in just a few months. How exciting!

Of course, beyond the physical, there is an obvious piece I haven’t mentioned yet: my blog. I remember posting my announcement on Instagram, and I felt like I was going to throw up. Usually, my feathers don’t get ruffled from a social media post but this was different. I was allowing people into my mind. More than that, I was opening myself up for judgment and criticism. Though we do that every day, this felt like I was asking for it. The thought of that made me shudder on August 3rd during my announcement. However, as I’ve gotten more comfortable with allowing my thoughts to blur into words on the screen, I’m grateful I stepped outside of what I thought my limits were. By allowing myself to push the confines of my comfort zone, I took a step closer to returning home. To return to me, Shresta.

That’s what I learned in 2022. I now feel desperate to barrel towards finding the things that bring me home to myself. I’ve started to uncover the metaphorical yellow brick road home. Although there are many more steps to take, I’m genuinely excited. Rather than fear, I’m peering out at the road ahead of me with great earnest.

Sincerely,

Shresta