Doing Yoga With My Wife
I am the only man in the studio. I am silent, seated Indian-style on a rented mat. My oversized Lake Huron t-shirt and basketball shorts are a sharp contrast to the tight-fitting Lululemon Athletica yoga gear stretched over the lanky bodies around me. My wife senses my discomfort. She says “There were other guys in here last week, I swear.” I look at her solemnly… [READ THE REST]
Written for Thought Catalog.