Last night, I avoided yoga class.
I wanted to go to a 6 pm class at a nearby yoga studio–let’s call it Studio X– that I really love. I haven’t been to Studio X in a while because there’s another one closer, we’ll call it Studio C, that has a more convenient schedule. The thing is, all else being equal, I enjoy class at Studio X more. Since yesterday was a pretty lazy finale to the holiday weekend, and I needed a good stretching out after two 6 am flights (yes you read that right. Kill me), I planned to drag my butt and my mat to Studio X.
Here was the problem: I felt guilty seeing the teacher.
You see, the Sunday night yoga teacher used to be my most favorite of all yoga teachers. I went to her classes twice a week (sort of groupie-esque, but who’s judging?) and we developed a friendly rapport. We always chatted at the beginning of class. And again at the end. We were facebook friends. During my year of friending, I thought seriously about asking her on a friend-date. I didn’t, because I’ve heard that the teacher-student relationship is akin to the psychiatrist-patient relationship and I didn’t want to make it awkward. But then I got busy with all my friend-making and suddenly didn’t have the time for yoga that I used to. Despite missing this teacher, I was thrilled when Studio C opened up only 7 minutes from my house. And the classes were only 60 minutes. I put Studio X on the backburner.
I’ve gone back a few times, and whenever I see my old favorite teacher, I feel so guilty. We were sorta-friends! Should I have been more loyal? It doesn’t help that when she sees me she says “Rachel! Where have you been???”
The Jewish guilt is such a heavy burden.
I smile awkwardly, tell her I’ve been swamped and that sometimes I go to Studio C, but I feel like a cheater. A horrible no-good sorta-friend cheater.
And so last night, when I thought about going to her class, despite knowing how happy the actual class would have made me, I wimped out. I couldn’t face the “where have you been?”s and my own guilt for bailing.
I know what you’re going to say. She’s a yoga teacher. She’s not judging you. She’d be happy to see you back in class. You’re probably right, but the anticipation of that uncomfortable opening chit chat was enough to keep me home catching up on my In Style.
I tend to feel this way a lot. If I haven’t been to the hair stylist in a while, or the gym, or apparently anyone in the service industry. Have you ever been in this situation? With a yoga teacher, or maybe a colorist, doctor, therapist, or trainer? What do you do? Remain more loyal? Avoid becoming too friendly? Or just act like an adult and have the 30-second uncomfortable conversation? Anyone do what I do–avoid, avoid, avoid? Your insight and wisdom will be much appreciated.
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