Story of becoming- part 4
Costa Rica and the Beginning of Softness
It had been a few months since the divorce process started.
Even though we were emotionally separated for over two years, logistics forced us to stay in the same house. Having to look at each other, share space, and pretend normalcy at times — it was too much to handle some days. But finally, I got the breakthrough I needed.
We applied for the divorce.
After he moved out, when I stepped back into the house — as mine — the house felt more me. More home.
It didn’t feel different.
And it felt completely different.
Responsibilities were the same. The heavy lifting had always been mine anyway. The kids felt safe and happy with me. Even while living in the same house before, they barely saw him for an hour a day. So in many ways, it didn’t impact them.
What mattered most was this:
I was finally financially safe enough to move forward with my life.
That was my biggest achievement.
Against my parents’ voices in my head — about being a good Christian, a faithful wife no matter how the husband is — complete nonsense. I had done the hardest thing:
I chose myself.
And I chose my children’s peace.
I was enjoying this new freedom. But sometimes, the process still got heavy. There were moments when exhaustion whispered, Maybe I should have just compromised and stayed.
But the phoenix in me rose immediately and said:
You didn’t go through all this for nothing.
One of those heavy moments pushed me to want something just for me. That’s when the yoga studio where I got my certification announced a retreat in Costa Rica.
It sounded fun.
It sounded healing.
It sounded like exactly what I needed.
A week long.
I had never stayed away from my kids that long — except twice when I had to fly to India for visa and passport purposes. Even then, their dad was technically there, though emotionally it felt like no support at all.
This time, it was for me.
And that made guilt creep in.
Leaving them for something “fun” felt selfish. Especially when they were already adjusting to life without both parents in the house.
But I knew I needed this.
I needed space away from daily life.
Away from constant reminders of what I had fought through.
I needed to refill myself — so I could show up fully for my kids.
Kushi agreed to take care of them. My kids defended my case fiercely. They wanted me to go. They are pure blessings in my life.
After a hundred lists and arrangements, I finally boarded the flight.
How far I had come.
I felt proud.
And deeply thankful for everyone who stood by me.
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I landed in the evening, checked in, refreshed, had dinner, and went to bed after checking on the kids. By now, my nervous system had learned to let go a little — even though a part of me still felt like I shouldn’t have left them.
The first day of the retreat was gentle. About twenty people. Introductions. Instructions. Talks about our yoga practices. A get-to-know-you day. Very little yoga. We ended with meditation.
I was already starting to feel better.
The second day, I was up and ready.
We were told we would work in pairs. The first activity was simple — looking into each other’s eyes. Fully seeing each other. No talking. Just presence.
I felt excited and nervous about who my partner would be.
We were twenty people — even numbers. No awkward grouping.
A tall man came and stood opposite me.
We exchanged our names. I was all smiles as I sat down for the activity.
And then I saw him.
His eyes.
Just his eyes.
Those kind eyes.
I couldn’t really see anything else because I couldn’t take my eyes off them. More than seeing him, it felt like he was seeing me. Like no one had ever really seen me before.
I couldn’t fully name what I felt.
It was grounding.
It was disarming.
It was deeply familiar and completely new at the same time.
Usually, I am the one sending positive energy — giving, wishing, holding space for others.
With him, it felt different.
It felt like I was receiving.
Not giving.
Receiving — fully.
It felt like he was seeing my whole life. Like he was seeing my soul without me having to explain it.
I wanted to look away.
But I didn’t want to.
It felt warm.
It felt safe.
It felt right.
I felt myself soften.
Surrender a little.
I allowed myself to receive — without trying to understand everything. Without trying to manage the moment. It was okay to receive instead of always being the giver.
My heart wanted to stay there.
I didn’t want the moment to end.
It felt like I was drifting inward, deeper into myself, when I heard the instructor call out for us to acknowledge our partners.
For the first time, instead of reaching in for a hug, I lifted my gaze.
And I saw the tall man — his full frame — for the first time.
