I have one motto that I live by: if anything bad happens, I better get a good story out of it. And last night, I certainly did. I went to a yoga class — my first in years and full disclosure I was feeling rusty and awkward. The reason for this return to yoga? Let’s just say that while I love HRT and estrogen in general, I’m less fond of the extra weight it’s encouraged my body to put on. My body seems to think it’s helping me prepare for pregnancy, but for a multitude of reasons, that’s just not going to happen.

Well, I got there early so as to re-accustom myself with the space and the sign in process. So checked in and asked the receptionist which room the Hatha class was in, she responded with “umm, I think that one” as she pointed with her unsure finger to the large room and I went in and began setting up.

It was then that my worst fear came true. I was in the wrong class. This was confirmed by one of the most embarrassing moments that had happened to me in a long while. The instructor came up to me and welcomed me to the class, she recognized I was new and also recognized the signs of a new mother to be, my belly. She put her hands on my rounded bloated stomach and welcomed me as a new mother to be. I was mortified but I could also appreciate the hilarity of the situation and I burst out laughing and told her “well, this confirms I need to lose some weight”. She looked at me puzzled as I explained I was in the wrong class and I in fact was not pregnant. As you could imagine, she slowly removed her hand from my belly as if to rewind the last ten seconds, for her I think it worked, for me on the other hand I was left with a lasting bruise to my ego, a hilarious story and an interesting feeling of gender euphoria.

It has been years since I transitioned so gender euphoric moments have become fewer and fewer as my new life has normalized but last night reminded me they can still come for me in the most unexpected of ways. I mean, who else has a stranger put their hands on their pudgy belly and immediately assumes you’re pregnant and in that moment you feel happy and euphoric. Wild.

So, moral of the story: if I ever need a quick self image boost disguised as utter humiliation, I might just wander into the wrong yoga class. Walking out of the studio that night, I felt a strange mix of bruised ego and unexpected liberation. This experience reminded me that I define myself, and that embracing the laughter, the awkwardness, and even the occasional mistaken pregnancy is all part of the adventure. Who knows, maybe this is the start of a whole new chapter, filled with laughter, self-acceptance, and even a little bit of inner peace. Namaste.

Voice is something that’s near and dear to my heart and if you’re looking for help to bring yours out, hit me up at https://www.voicebykylie.com/contact

Till’ next time,

Kylie