I'm laying on a table with my knees up like I'm about to get a pelvic exam as my physical therapist says (not quietly enough), "Now. Close your vagina. Contract your lower abdominals, and squeeze your butt cheeks."
"Ok, Universe. I took a leap. I left everything behind that was safe and comfortable to move somewhere I had never seen before in order to start my life and career over. Now it's your turn, Universe. WHERE IS MY EASY BUTTON???"
I first fell in love with the magical field of physical therapy when I was a teen barely beginning my undergraduate education. I was experiencing some unfortunate repercussions from my childhood back injury and had reached out to a local chiropractor for help. I wasn't making much progress with her so she referred me to a local exercise physiologist who specialized in injury recovery. I checked his credentials and he held a degree in kinesiology.
I do wear one of those fancy FitBits, though, which means I at least have some sort of aspiration to exercise. I go to the park across the street a couple times a week to "get my steps in". There I see young people and old people and couples and dogs and even kids jogging along looking all glowy with the sweat of a fit person, and I think to myself, "It must be nice to be so strong and awesome like that." I get uber jealous of runners sometimes.
Some humans are dissatisfied with their bodies. They pick, poke, and prod areas of their bodies that they deem to be lesser than others areas or lesser compared to an area or body part of another humans. They wish to have attributes of some other human.
I can't be the only person like this, so... Hey you, I've got your back.