Walking Out

Sometimes I feel like I take my much-vaunted new relationship with guilt too far. This evening, I walked out of my yoga class when I learned that my instructor was away, as I had attended a class with the substitute teacher before and hadn't enjoyed it. In my defense, the substitute teacher hadn't arrived, but I am sure the others were surprised to see me walk out without a word. They haven't ever been particularly friendly to me so its not like I owe them an explanation. In fact, some of them  look straight through me even though we see each other every week. The only reason I choose to join this overwhelmingly white, overwhelmingly female and overwhelmingly lithe group is because the yoga teacher is amazing. But that is something I have whined about before.
If I had stayed for the class, I am sure I would have felt bitter, and counted the minutes to the end. Not the purpose of yoga at all. Life is too short to waste on things you don't enjoy and don't have to do, especially if there is a way to escape. Equally, I wouldn't have left if  the instructor was already there. The right to do as you please doesn't extend to being cavalier about other people's feelings.
When I was young, I gave an inordinate amount of attention to the question "What will other people think?". Its not that that question has gone away. It has just become more nuanced. Do I really care about the people who I am worried will disapprove? Who am I hurting with my actions and can it  be avoided? What will I think of  myself?