When Sophie woke the next morning, Michael’s side of the bed hadn’t been slept in. In the lounge room there was a blanket and pillow lying on the couch, still in the shape of her husband’s body.
‘Michael,’ she called. His keys and wallet were missing from the hall table. He had already left.
Sophie looked at the yoga mat rolled up in the corner. She had skipped yoga on Monday night because she had forgotten to bring her change of clothes with her and hadn’t wanted to bother Rebecca. Besides, after hearing about James, she hadn’t been in the mood.
She slipped the DVD into the player and switched on the TV. When she rolled the mat out on the floor, Izzy stopped washing herself and looked up at Sophie. ‘It’s okay, puss,’ she said. ‘I’ll try not to fall on you.’
Sophie sat in child’s pose, her arms outstretched, her forehead pushed into the mat and listened to her breath. A wave of calmness washed over her. The class was easier than Anisha’s, just gentle stretches. The twenty minutes flew by. When Sophie lay on her back in Savasana, Izzy sat on her stomach. Sophie laughed and patted the cat on the head. Sophie stayed on the floor for a long time after the DVD had stopped.
When she got out of the shower, she looked at the scales. The number she had seen the day before flashed back into her mind.
‘This is bullshit,’ she said, to her reflection in the mirror. She put her track pants and singlet back on and took the scales outside. She squared them up with the edges of the pavers, took the top brick from the pile and dropped it on the metal device. The foot area cracked from one side to the other. The second blow shattered the glass in the LCD display. The last blow left a hole exactly in the centre. Sophie picked up the scales and the loose broken pieces and put the lot in the bin.
‘I don’t know what I am,’ she said to the sky, ‘but I’m not a fucking number.’
It wasn’t until she hung up her towel in the bathroom that she noticed the blood stain. Had she cut herself on the scales? She realised it was menstrual blood. She had started her period, after not having one for months.
She stood in the kitchen, deciding what to eat for breakfast and felt her stomach contract into familiar period cramps. At the same time, she noticed she wasn’t hungry. She didn’t see any point in eating if she wasn’t hungry so she skipped breakfast.
She went to the computer to check out the yoga DVD page on Facebook. The most recent entry linked to a free guided meditation podcast. Sophie clicked through to the website and scanned the titles: Body Awareness, Simply Being, Emotional Ease, Relaxing into Healing, Letting Go. She plugged in her iPod and left it to download while she got ready for work.
On the way to the ferry she listened to the first track. The woman’s voice was soft and silky, the music a haunting melody. By the time she arrived at work she felt calm and clear-headed. She still didn’t know what she should do about the weight she had gained, but for the moment she felt content just waiting to see what would happen.
The park near Beth’s house had a playground with a yellow slide, a climbing frame, a seesaw and swings. Max ran ahead and jumped across a set of tyres.
‘Don’t get dirty,’ called Beth. She looked at Sophie and laughed. ‘As if that’s going to stop him.’
Beth’s blond hair curled in soft waves around her face and she wore pale pink lip gloss. She wore a pair of relaxed blue jeans, a white t-shirt and a flowing tie-dyed scarf twisted around her neck. Blue painted toenails peeped out from the ends of a pair of beaded leather thongs.
‘Let’s start with you,’ said Sophie. ‘Sit on that bench under the tree and I’ll do your head and shoulders. We’ll get Max in a minute.’
After a few shots, both Sophie and Beth relaxed. The sun broke out from behind the clouds making the warm afternoon even hotter.
‘This is the first time I’ve ever had a professional photograph taken,’ said Beth. ‘I’ve been meaning to do it for years. I usually take my own photo in the mirror or get Max to have a go. I can’t wait to post your photos on my blog.’
Sophie looked surprised. ‘Blog?’
‘It started out as a record of my lap band surgery but now it’s mostly about what Max and I get up to.’
‘Hang on,’ said Sophie. ‘Lap band surgery?’
‘Way before I started working at the Opera House, when Max was two. I was overweight before I got pregnant and morbidly obese afterwards.’
‘Well it must have worked because look at you now.’
‘The surgery had very little to do with it in the end. I lost a shit load of weight the first year, but I put most of it back on. Losing that much weight ravages the body. I couldn’t deal with how I looked.’
‘What happened?’
‘After I regained weight I tried everything to lose it again. I’d lose some then put it back on. Classic yo-yo behaviour. Until one day I read a book about intuitive eating. It took a long time but eventually the weight melted off without me having to do anything.’
‘Come on,’ said Sophie. ‘You must have done something.’
‘Yes, I did, but it had nothing to do with food and exercise.’
Max ran across the park and tugged at his mother’s arm.
‘Can I have a drink, please?’
‘There’s water in my bag. Once you’ve had that you can have your photo taken.’
Max screwed up his face.
‘How about we do it on the climbing frame,’ said Sophie. ‘Your mum can stand on the ground and you can climb up behind her.’
‘Cool,’ said Max.
Sophie could only manage to capture Max’s attention for about half an hour before he got bored. She had worked quickly so she had plenty of photos.
‘Let’s go get ice cream,’ said Beth.
‘Yay,’ yelled Max, and ran to the car.
As Sophie, Beth and Max sat in a cafe spooning cool vanilla ice cream and caramel sauce from their sundaes, Beth continued her story.
‘All I can tell you is the two simple things that changed my life. The first is that I learnt to truly believe every woman is beautiful. Every single one. No matter how big or small, how young or old. It’s the only thing that matters.’
‘But how do you make yourself believe you’re beautiful when you look in the mirror and see a body you don’t like?’ said Sophie.
‘You brain-wash yourself. Or more correctly, you de-program yourself.’
Max finished his ice cream and pulled a dog-eared paperback from Beth’s bag. He looked at her as if to ask permission and she nodded her head. He sat back down and concentrated on his book.
‘I wore a slip-on bracelet around my wrist,’ said Beth, ‘and every time the voice in my head told me I was ugly or fat or not good enough, I said, out loud if I could, The sky is blue and my potential is limitless. Then I’d put the bracelet on the other wrist. By saying something neutral to counteract the negative thoughts, I wore away the neural groove in my brain. And the bracelet was a measure of my progress. I moved it less and less until one day it stayed in the same place all day.
The second thing sounds a bit more woo-woo. It has to do with love. I decided to be the loving person I was looking for in my life. I set out to compliment every person I met, to encourage people who seemed to be struggling, and to be as kind as I possibly could. It was difficult in the beginning so I started out with complete strangers. When my confidence grew I moved on to acquaintances, friends and family. The thing about love is that giving it is as wonderful as receiving it.’
‘But what if no one loves you back? What if people take advantage of you?’ asked Sophie.
‘It happens far less than you might think. It’s surprising how people respond differently when you encounter them with a heart full of kindness.’ Beth reached out and touched Sophie’s forearm. Beth laughed. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve delivered a sermon.’
‘Not at all,’ said Sophie. ‘It’s fascinating.’
‘Somewhere in the midst of all that self-acceptance and compassion I found a place where I could love myself, sagging skin and all. After that I just followed my instincts and listened to my body. And, well … here we are.’
‘How come I didn’t know about any of this?’ asked Sophie.
‘Because, for the most part, being happy in my own skin is no longer a struggle. Of course, there are bad days, but they don’t last. The war is over and I’m living in peace.’ Beth’s smile seemed to light up her whole face.
‘Congratulations,’ said Sophie, ‘I’m impressed. You’ve got what most of us only dream about.’
Beth pushed her hair back over her shoulder. ‘The thing is Sophie, I’m living proof that it doesn’t just have to be a dream.’