Tummy in. Glutes tight. Tuck your hips under. Squeeze your bum. Do not flare the ribcage. Palms flat. Elbows turned in. Remember to breathe. That’s it. Hold it. You have got this.
It is a relief to have these words flooding my mind, crashing loudly over the other thoughts, the ones I really need to drown out. Thoughts such as: ‘Why did he leave me?’, ‘What was it about me that wasn’t good enough?’, ‘Will I ever find a love like that again?’, ‘Will all the things that were so important to me—trust, a family, an equal to grow old with—be possible now?’, or ‘Will I end up alone?’
That last one is the real kicker. The one that wakes you up in the middle of the night like a loud bang in a dark room. The homing device your inner being returns to, even when
