Have you ever found yourself crying into a stranger’s arms, feeling both sadness for what you once had and happiness for the fond memories you can carry with you? Just me? Well, it’s not as bad as it sounds. In fact, it can be really grounding.
I started working at ivivva, lululemon’s sister company for girls 6-14, in July 2016. I did not want to go back into retail, but I had an unpaid internship and looming student debt so I sent out applications and hoped for the best. Every day at ivivva was not enjoyable. I didn’t particularly like trying to sell to girls whose parents were NOT happy about the price tag (despite my selling points of how functional and technical these clothes were), I really dreaded processing new shipments in the back room, at times I felt left out (which tends to happen when you put a group of girls together), and I had plenty of days where I was so frustrated with having to go into work around the time when all my friends were going home for the day. With all of that aside, I loved this job. As I said in my last post, I got to try so many new gyms and fitness studios and I found one that I can now call home. I met incredibly dedicated young women, I relived back-to-school shopping and birthday mall trips, I formed a group of friends outside of my high school and college gang, and I got to be part of a company that is just so incredibly good to their employees. It would be an excellent place to work while I completed teacher training, knowing I’d be able to adjust my schedule to accommodate class, and it would be a company I would aspire to climb the ladder with and add a management position to my resume.
I knew it wasn’t forever, but it was for now.
My life with ivivva was routine and it did not cause me a lot of stress. I was having a lot of issues with the antidepressant I had started a few months before starting at ivivva, but with this job that I enjoyed and a stable schedule, my doctor and I felt confident enough with my environment to wean me off it. May 31st, 2017, the day I took my last pill was the day that my boss called us into the back room for a conference call. I knew this wasn’t good news because the regional manager for lululemon was on our sales floor so all of our team could be together for the call. This wasn’t to tell us about a new style of Rhythmic Tights. It was a decision to move the business to an e-commerce model and close stores on or before August 20th.
My first reaction was anger. I was angry that the other Michigan location was going to remain open but we had to close. I was angry that I was not eligible to transfer to lululemon because my sister is a manager there. But mostly I was angry that the relationships we had made with these girls would have to end. My anger turned to sadness when I thought about how much I loved my role at ivivva — being the cool older sister type that girls could talk to, share their dreams and goals with, and ask for advice. I had girls whose moms would come in and talk to me about their daughter being bullied at school and end up having conversations that were hours long (sorry, managers!) about how scary and exciting and nerve-wracking and innocent being in middle school is. My heart broke every time I had to tell one of these moms that this store, this support system, wouldn’t be here once the new school year started.
Around the time all of this was happening, lululemon rolled out their “This Is Yoga” campaign. I loved this one because I felt like it was a great message that anything you love and feel passionate about can be yoga, and the same for just breathing and living. When we had in-store yoga events and girls couldn’t go it I would always respond with, “Yes you can! You’re doing it right now by just standing in front of me and breathing and thinking about it. Of course you can do yoga!” My anger — this is yoga. My sadness — this is yoga. My thinking ahead about what the heck I am going to do next in life — this is also yoga…in more ways than one!
I found a new job, and then another new job, and then finally a job that stuck (another “for now” job) but it took me a long time to feel like myself again. I had to figure out how to operate under a new routine and without medication.
One day as I was Christmas shopping at the mall, I noticed that the barricade in front of what used to be ivivva had been moved and there was a new store occupying the space. I went in and looked around — it was an adorable little stationery shop. The woman working was making small talk with me, and I eventually told her my history with this location. She could tell I was getting a little emotional and asked if I’d like to see something in the back. I followed through the familiar hall of dressing rooms to the back room, where I saw the door that had my gift to my coworkers on it — a list of everyone’s name who worked in our store during its short life with a quote about friendship that touched my heart and made me think of them. The woman told me that she could tell this space meant a lot to whoever was there before her, so she wanted to honor them and keep it. This is when I found myself crying in a stranger’s arms.
It was hard to explain to her the detail of every emotion I was feeling, but I think she understood. I equated this catharsis to the feeling I get after taking a yoga class. It was hard and uncomfortable and I didn’t always know where I was going, but at the end I could look back and be proud of what I accomplished.
Lululemon was right. This, all of this, is yoga.
amelia does yoga 