Balancing Act
When couples yoga includes one too many people.
The Casual Confession
She mentioned him casually. “We stayed close,” she said, referring to her almost ex-fiancé. I nodded. Everyone has a past. We were still new, and I didn’t want to start policing her stories. But weeks later, more surfaced. They weren’t just texting. There was strange energy lingering. I had questions, but I held back. We had just started planning more time together, talking about hobbies we might share. She mentioned she used to do acro yoga “I could show you sometime,” she said. Later, after a brief fallout, triggered by her reluctance to be transparent about certain aspects of her life, we reconnected. She said she had returned to her old group.
“Wait,” I asked. “Couples yoga? With your ex?”
She smiled, unfazed. “It’s not romantic. It’s just a sport.” Then added, “But yeah, he’ll probably be there.”
Sure. The kind of sport where you balance your body on someone’s feet while making intense eye contact. Not exactly neutral territory. She brushed off my discomfort as jealousy. Said I needed to “understand the context.”
The Redefined Transparency
We had agreed on honesty. But apparently, that meant she shared things selectively. And I was responsible for managing my reactions. Fair? Not enough.
I tried. I really did. I told her that if the roles were reversed. If I were physically close to someone I once loved? She might feel uneasy, too. I mentioned dancing. She didn’t like the comparison. She didn’t answer directly. Just said, “I need time to phase it out.”
Phase it out. Like a nicotine patch for emotional dependencies. I realized I wasn’t dating a person. I was dating a transition.. He was her yoga partner. Not just there occasionally.
The Weight of Waiting
From then on, everything felt heavier. I wanted to move forward. She wanted space to “close chapters slowly.” But time didn’t feel like healing. It felt like stalling. And with every conversation, it became clearer: I wasn’t part of a new beginning. I was the soft place to land while she lingered in something unfinished. One night, she asked why I seemed distant.
I didn’t know how to say: “Because I’m tired of dealing with your unresolved chaos while your past gets to lie on top of you. Literally.”
Note to Self
When someone says they need “time to transition,” make sure you’re not just the placeholder. It’s one thing to respect someone’s process. It’s another to wait around while they balance their healing on someone else’s feet. Unfinished business doesn’t always announce itself. Sometimes, it shows up in yoga pants, insisting it’s nothing serious. But if you feel like you’re competing with the past, even when the past is upside down in a living room, you probably are.
