I don't like being "bad" at things-I am competitive, love to succeed and am typically the one screaming "WINNNERRRRR-I WINNNN-WINNINGGGG!" in someone's face when I beat them. Hashtag character flaw.
Since I've stepped into the fitness world for enjoyment but also as a career, I was deemed as "bad" at yoga. I don't know where I derived the idea from, as no "flexy Brenda" yoga mom ever told me I was. They probably never even looked my direction, but I felt it.
Running and working out and....let's just be honest, my straight up lack of flexibility, has caused me to barely be able to touch my toes. I'm the girl who can only manage a "shin touch", the girl who sighs with relief when the instructor says to go into child's pose because I'm really good at things like laying on the ground.
My best friend and I decided to try out a local Buti Yoga class this morning-no literally, we just up and decided yesterday we'd try this crap. Jenn is a natural yogi-she's going to be flexy Jenn yoga mom in a few months, while I'm still struggling to touch my toes. I still love her, even though she's bendy naturally. I walked in totally uptight and honestly, afraid. Let's be real-sometimes walking into a room of women you don't know can be intimidating.
Should I put my mat in the back?
Is this someone's spot?
Will they like me?
Should I cover my ass up more before walking in here?
Will they roll their eyes at my lack of yogi-ness?
Why are you doing this Britney, don't you remember that you couldn't even do a Herkey move when you tried out for (and FAILED) dance team in Jr. High?
YOU ARE NOT MADE FOR YOGA.
Let me tell you something, fellow "bad" yogis...You are not bad at yoga, and Buti taught me that this morning.
Immediately greeted by a flow of friendship, community and straight up kick-ass woman power, I settled onto my mat and faced myself in the mirror. Strings of beautiful women with every body shape stretched, giggled and let jokes flow. Some wore tanks, yoga pants, shorty shorts, some even in just their sports bra.
But want to know something beautiful? Nobody cared.
You didn't think about outfits, you didn't think about body rolls or cellulite that might be peeking out of your shorts.
The only concern with your body was celebrating it, it's potential, it's growth, it's sensuality.
Buti is perfect for every woman, but especially for the one who has felt out of sorts as they attempted to balance in tree pose, who really just wants to yell out a string of extremities when they try to touch their nose to their knee, the one who feels "bad" at yoga, and the one who wants to forget the pointless shame she feels for taking up space.
In Buti, you are constantly moving from one pose to the next, shaking your booty, enjoying the best (no, seriously) jamming music around, and guess what-it's okay to yell, whoop, holler, laugh, tell jokes, throughout the entirety of the class.
I have zero zen-silence doesn't calm me. Know what gets all the toxic, yucky, mucky, stresses of life out for me? Rap music. Dancing. Laughing with girlfriends. Sweating.
Guess what has all of these things perfectly and beautifully packaged up for you, with a ribbon of girl power tied at the top?
Mother. Freaking. Buti. Yoga.
