I let go in yoga and instantly regretted it.

What’s your most embarrassing moment? Something probably comes to mind immediately—an instance when you were unexpectedly exposed, caught off guard, or humiliated in front of others. Because if no one witnesses our blunders, is there really anything to be embarrassed about?

I remember mine vividly. It happened in Yin Yoga.

Yin was my sanctuary. Every Saturday morning, I’d roll out my mat, breathe deeply, and let the tension of the week melt away. It was my favorite class—slow, meditative, the perfect reset. Until that one morning.

“Let the tummy go,” the instructor said gently, guiding us into Child’s Pose. “We have a superficial relationship with our tummy, always trying to manipulate it, to hold it in,” she said. “In Yin, we let it go. Release your belly, release your expectations of what you think you should look like. Let go…”

So I did.

In my effort to fully embrace the practice, to release my belly and all expectations, I also released something else—loudly.

Oh. My. Gawd!!!

A screeching, unmistakable fart tore through the quiet studio, right in the middle of the instructor’s perfectly timed silence. There was no covering it up. I was in the second row, wearing my snug, confidence-boosting yoga set, and now all I wanted was for the earth to split open and swallow me whole. I saw myself as classy and would never have intentionally farted in front of others.

The teacher, ever so graceful, jumped in as if on cue. “We release,” she said, her voice a little louder now, perhaps in an attempt to help me save face. “We release tension, we release judgment, we release everything that no longer serves us.”

I appreciated the effort, but it didn’t help much. Especially because, before class, I’d caught the eye of a particularly good-looking guy—one of those effortlessly fit types who seemed to live at the gym. He’d given me a glance of appreciation, and while I was happily married and had zero intentions, I’d still felt flattered. Now, I didn’t even have to turn around to know he was right behind me.

I could not bear it.

I tried to convince myself that maybe—just maybe—the music had muffled the sound. Maybe the dimmed lighting worked in my favor. But I knew better. I was clenching my butt for dear life while thinking of an exit strategy. I wished I had my phone so I could fake an emergency text, but it was in my locker. I lasted another 10 minutes, then tried slipping out as inconspicuously as possible. 

And that was it.

For weeks, I avoided Yin Yoga entirely. I switched up my schedule, opting for other classes at different times, just to make sure I didn’t run into the same group of people. I was convinced that I had forever earned the title of “the fart girl.”

I simply couldn’t stop replaying that moment in my head—especially at night, when I should have been sleeping. I’d lay there, reliving the sound, the moment of realization, the sheer horror.

And for what?

For a completely human, completely normal moment that no one else was thinking about. Okay yes, some people probably heard. Maybe one or two even laughed at me. But did they carry that moment with them beyond class? Did they dwell on it for days or weeks like I did? Highly unlikely.

How many times have you done this? Stayed up at night, replaying an embarrassing moment that everyone else has long forgotten? Overthinking, self-judgment, and that “what if they still remember?” fear can steal our peace of mind. But what if we let it go?

People aren’t thinking about us nearly as much as we think they are.

Embarrassing moments happen. To everyone. And while they feel like the end of the world in the moment, they’re rarely as significant as we make them out to be. If I could go back, I would have stayed in that class. I would have laughed it off, taken a deep breath, and reminded myself that yoga is about release.

That’s what I Can't Sleep is all about—helping women stop losing sleep over things that don’t deserve space in our minds. Whether it’s work stress, relationship doubts, or a yoga class mishap, we all need to learn to give ourselves grace.

So, the next time you find yourself tossing and turning over something embarrassing, ask yourself:

Will this matter in five years?

If not, let it go!