What if you're wrong?

I'm seeing a new therapist. It's been years since I've been in therapy. I've been in and out of various therapists' offices for decades. I thought it was time to try again. Although, breaking in a new therapist is hard, so hard. But I like this one so far, three appointments in.

She said something to me that stopped me in my tracks. I whine a lot about inversions. I whine to my teacher, who simply says, it'll happen. I whine to my friend, who commiserates with, stupid inversions. I whine to my husband, who says, you'll get it.

All well intentioned uselessness for me. (but maybe I should stop whining...)

But I was whining yet again about them in therapy. I told her I just didn't believe I could ever do them properly, that I missed out on childhood muscle memory, I didn't start out fit enough, I'm too heavy, too inflexible, too weak, blah blah blah. She simply said...

What if you're wrong?

huh. I'd never had anyone phrase it that way before. It's her job to challenge me in a gentle way, unlike anyone else in my life, who love me but just don't know what to say to make me feel better. It's not her job to make me feel better. It's her job to derail my script. And she certainly put some brakes on that train of thought.

What if I'm wrong? That would be nice. I'm certainly not opposed to admitting when I'm wrong. But what if I'm wrong? I sure hope I'm wrong.

I went to lyra immediately after my appointment. And got this video. I'm still jumping, but I wanted to see if I could jump but not LOOK so much like I'm jumping. No kicking one leg, no bending knees to jump. Not too shabby, eh? For a DIB straddle.

And first time ever, ankle hang! Ta Da! It's terrifying, so I've had to get over the fear. It also hurts like a mother fucker. That's all my bodyweight pressing a metal hoop on the delicate insides of my feet. I had to just ignore the pain. It's not much now, but I've been working on this for months. I'll get there. It'll look badass!