4. Crying in the Car

Sometimes your spin class is just a spin class. And sometimes, it’s the only thing holding you together.

I had been teaching spin for about three months—just enough time to stop second-guessing every cue, but not quite long enough to stop sweating through my shirt before the warm-up. I was in a transitional phase (read: i had left one job and accepted another.. that i wasn’t entirely sure i was qualified for) in my work life, and the podium became my place to shine. Inspire. Perform. Dance like no one was watching.

I was decent. But I hadn’t found my voice yet.

And then… I found the DMs.

Let me just say—I would love to tell you I stumbled upon them while looking for something totally innocent like a recipe or a dog video. But no. My gut knew. My gut was practically shouting, “Open the damn app, girl.” So I did. I became a full-blown digital detective. If the FBI ever needs help, I’m available.

And there it was. That horrible moment when you wish you’re wrong… and then you see it with your own two eyeballs. In plain Helvetica font.