Open Letter to My Hot Yoga Instructor

Dear Sultry Stretcher,


Don’t tell me you aren’t feeling it too. I’m watching you. You, with your shorts and your shirt, and your deep, honest eyes.

Honestly, it’s a little inconsiderate of you to be here. I come to yoga for me; for my peace, serenity and to justify a gym membership. Sure, I’m overly vocal about my practice. And, yes, I love that carrying my mat to and from yoga tells all the less centered people around me that I’m going to or from yoga. But you’re getting into my head. Normally, I only have to battle thoughts about what I’m going to eat after class or which Disney Villain I would be, but now I’m just thinking about you and what side of the room you’re on and if you think my pose is good or if you think it’s really good or if, maybe, you wanna take this yoga thing off the mat.

That ankle tattoo? Is that Sanskrit? Because I know what that is. Are you going to ask me out? I’d say yes. We could go get other tattoos or maybe some Gogi berry smoothies. I don’t even know if those exist, but they totally should, ya know? You know.

You’ve come over and gently, purposefully adjusted me several times with strong, wise hands. You’ve also adjusted everyone else, but I think I’ve had you one more time? At first, I thought it might be because I had bad form – but c’mon, LOL.

You hold my thigh and say, “Man, you’ve got some tight hamstrings.” Does that seem like a challenge to you? Can I be your Everest? No, too unattainable. Can I be your finding-a-parking-space-when-it’s-busy? (Not, that I would EVER drive a car, haha, no! Not when we could just travel deeper into ourselves.)

Maybe we could get together and open your chakra? Ha-ha!

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry, that was crass and you would never be crass.


You tell us to go into half moon and I’m pretty pumped. I mean, as a yogi, it’s my absolute best pose. Not that people do yoga to be good or competitive, right?! Haha. I slip into the pose like a dream and know you’ve got to be impressed. Until you adjust my hips and slip me a block for assistance. Umm, ok? But surely you don’t think I need these? It’s a game. You’re playing a game. Because you know how I love our little games. Let’s get tea.



Half Moon, Full heart