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“Release anything that you are holding onto.”These words are often said in the yoga classroom. Something in me was ready to be released, but I needed more time. Eventually, it all started to connect. Through my disconnected behaviors, I had so effectively buried the memory of my sexual assault that it was nearly impossible to trigger it. Now that I was beginning to reconnect to my body and my world, I was getting back bits and pieces. Three years after I dedicated myself to my practice on the mat, and four years after my sexual assault, yoga has equipped me with the tools to begin to process. I know how to breathe, even when I am in an uncomfortable position. I know I am strong; if I can bear my least favorite pose for just another moment, I can bear anything. I know that I can trust myself. Most importantly, I know that I am here.
Side note to self: Jenna, you are here. You are in your body. You can sense the world around you, thanks to your body. Be in your body. No, it hasn’t always been great in here, but you are alive and you are here. Be here. This is real. This is happening.Several months ago, it was (unsurprisingly) my yoga practice that finally pulled the emotional trigger, and brought four years of suppressed feelings bubbling up to the surface. I was literally knocked flat on my ass for a day. I felt like a train had hit me, and I wasn’t ready to accept why. It took an entire week of nightmares for me to realize that it was time to confront the reality of my sexual assault. It was real. It happened. I turned to one of my teachers and asked for help, and with her encouragement began seeing a counselor to process my trauma. Thanks to the skills I have acquired through my yoga practice, I feel prepared to process. No, I am not healed. No, I haven’t let go of all of the shame and guilt. Looking back, it is difficult not to feel guilty for the way I reacted after my assault. It still feels like an excuse when I say I did the best I could. I wish I had learned to love myself sooner. I am grateful every day for my physical yoga practice. Without it, I might still be disconnected, apathetic and miserable. Getting onto my mat taught me how to be present in my body, learn to reflect without feeling shame, and learn to feel without being out of control. Being a part of a community of like-minded yogis helps me to feel supported, connected and grounded enough to face my demons. And as I continue to process and grow, I do so with the intention of turning my traumatic experience into a gift. I want to use my gratitude for the practice of yoga to increase its magnetism—that familiar pull that caught me right in my gut—so that others might find a way to love and accept themselves in light of, not in spite of, their traumas. Originally published November 2014 on elephantjournal.com