Page 98 of Pretty Please Me
Now, I just need to get to my girl.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Maggie
My back aches from sitting in this cramped seat, and I try to stretch it the best I can without disturbing the older gentleman sleeping next to me. I don’t know much about him, just that his name is Carl and he’s newly widowed. He smells like cigars and peppermint and falls asleep within minutes every time we stop.
In the brief moments when he was awake, he told me that my red hair reminded him of one of his great-granddaughters. He’s the sweetest old man I’ve ever met, so I’m careful not to disturb him as I wiggle in my seat.
After returning to Chicago, I found my yoga studio in far better shape than ever. Apparently, Sam made a few upgrades without my knowledge. I tried to have Joey send me the bill, but he refused and said he’d already been paid in full. There was no arguing with him, so I just thanked him for doing such a good job and treated the crew to cupcakes.
I started classes back immediately, and the new facelift caught the eye of a group of mommy influencers. They all bought annual memberships and began posting daily vlogs of some of my classes, and before I knew it, my clientele doubled in only a month of reopening.
It’s been a whirlwind of growth and the busiest season in my career. We’ve had a few growing pains along the way, and I eventually had to hire five new instructors and a couple of front desk workers to keep things running smoothly.
I would never have been able to capitalize on this growth six months ago. I would’ve been too afraid to take chances and try new things. I would’ve been afraid of disappointing my older members with the fresh spin on my classes, the very thing that most everyone now loves.
The version of myself that existed four months ago would’ve been too afraid of the risk of changing in fear of not pleasingeveryone. Now, I realize what I thought was my greatest strength—my gentle agreeableness—was actually my greatest weakness.
You can’t please everyone, believe me, I’ve tried for twenty-nine years to do just that. But once I realized the cost of putting everyone else's dreams, preferences, ideas, and comfort before my own on my mental and physical health, it was like a switch flipped in my mind.
Maybe things with Trent were the straw that broke the camel's back, or maybe I’d already started to change slowly and could finally see things for how they were. Whatever the case, that was the moment I realized what I was doing wrong. That night at the reunion, I realized I deserved so much more. It was the first time I actually believed it.
Sam may have broken my heart, but I know I wouldn’t be here had I not asked him to help me four months ago. It may be unconventional, but I wouldn’t trade my heartache for anything. The things I felt when I was with him, the way I felt about myself, no one can ever take that away from me.
I always wanted to feel chosen. I used to think I’d get that from a boyfriend or future husband, but now I realize I can choose myself. And from now on, I’m doing just that.
I signed up for the Lotus Haven retreat two months ago after the major boom in business. It’s not something I ever would have done before, but I need this for myself. I need to continue my personal development and growth. I need to arm myself with tools to sustain the growth of my business and maybe even my personal life.
I want to be selfish for once While I figure out how to be the best version of myself possible. From now on, I’m not taking a backseat to my one life, only reacting to others. I want to be behind the wheel taking chances and trusting myself to make mistakes and then fix them by doing what feels right in my soul.
My whole life, I’ve let my childhood define me, always putting everyone’s needs before mine, even to my detriment. But not anymore.
I don’t need rescuing. I’m not a damsel in distress.
I am my own goddamn heroine.
I flip the page in my yoga magazine, only looking up as the sound of gasps and laughter buzzes around me.
I look around the bus to see where the commotion is coming from.
Some of the people seem angry while others laugh hysterically, and one older woman even pulls out a camera to take pictures.
What could they all possibly be looking at?
I follow their gaze and squint as a strange van comes into view. It looks oddly familiar, and I stare for just a moment before recognition dawns on me.
Is that? No…
I stand in my seat to get a better view, then carefully step over Carl and rush toward the middle of the bus.
The next thing I know, I’m staring at a man’s white ass hanging out of the window of the old camper van, and then I see Sam waving his arms like a maniac.
My stomach drops, and my immediate thought is something is wrong. Why would Sam be flagging down a bus… in Wyoming on Christmas morning? Isn’t he supposed to be in Africa or something?
I rush to the front of the bus to get the bus driver's attention and stand there awkwardly when he doesn’t acknowledge me.
I clear my throat. “Excuse me.”
