FINDING MY WAY BACK

These photos were captured in the bustling, electric atmosphere of the vibrant fashion district—a place where creativity and inspiration radiate from every corner. The energy of the space seamlessly mirrors the essence of individuality and passion. This post is shared independently, not endorsed by or affiliated with Equinox Fitness. Each visual was skillfully and thoughtfully captured by the talented Mitchell Royel, bringing life to this narrative. And right now, as you immerse yourself in these moments, imagine the soulful rhythm of "La La La" by Naughty Boy featuring Sam Smith filling the air, adding another layer of depth to the story.

Dear Equinox,

I want you to know something: gratitude is a spiritual practice, and this letter is mine today.

Years ago, I was walking home from the grocery store with friends from BelAir Treatment Center when the universe placed someone right in my path—my old manager from lululemon, whose sister works at Equinox. I had just transitioned into the outpatient program, showing up every day for therapy and work/life balance training while living in a house in Woodland Hills. "How have you been?" she asked. And I told her the truth—all of it. Where I was, what I was healing, what my days looked like now. She looked at me with kind eyes and said, "Good for you." Two words. That's all it took to remind me: the universe sees us, even when we can't see ourselves.

That's the thing about rock bottom—it cracks you open so the light can get in.

My rebuilding really began with you. When Malibu Sun Yoga closed in 2013–2014, I felt completely unmoored. There was a painful gap between who I knew myself to be and who the people around me—friends from Pierce Community College, people from my personal life—seemed to see. I started showing up to Equinox with a heavy heart, quietly, not asking for much. Just movement. Just somewhere to land.

Then, at a gala, my dear family friend Alan pressed a three-month trial gift card into my hands. "This is perfect," I thought. "I've already been doing this." Alan had been nudging me toward Dawn Stillo for a while—a warm, deeply grounded yoga instructor who offered private lessons once a week at Alan Melina's office. He told me to find her class in Westlake. I listened. And something in me began to shift.

Dawn's class gave me a container. The structure, the breath, the movement—it all said: you belong here. You can begin again. And I did. Slowly, steadily, I started from scratch. That was exactly what I needed, and somehow, exactly what Equinox made room for.

Years later, after leaving Erewhon, I signed up again—and bought my first SoulCycle At-Home bike. That moment felt like a quiet miracle. Proof that I had stayed committed to showing up for myself, even when no one was watching.

You gave me a place to heal. A place to move. A place to come back to myself—not the self others projected onto me, but the one I was always meant to be.

I'm grateful. And I'm still showing up.

With love and appreciation,

Mitchell Royel