White Cis Fat Queer Woman
I enjoy Doctor Who and people with privilege not being fucking awful. My blog will be full of both these things, as well as pictures of cats. I also run a fat-positive health blog.
Feel free to come to my askbox! Just know I keep anonymous off because nothing makes trolls more angry than not being able to hide behind greyface. But if I fuck up, you can absolutely call me on it. I will apologize and strive not to do it again.
For most of my life, I was under the impression that I rather hated exercise.
There are numerous reasons why, mostly boiling down to people making me self-conscious about my body and abilities, and thus self-conscious about attempting exercise…. which turned into a defiant “well fuck you all and your stupid exercise, fuck that forever.”
But in truth, I didn’t actually hate exercise. I loved everything about marching band (if you don’t believe that was exercise YOU ARE WRONG) and Dance Dance Revolution and hiking in the woods.
But that wasn’t exercise FOR exercise- that was fun stuff that just happened to also include exercise. So I continued to believe that I was not an exercise person.
Ever since I started running a body-positive health blog, I’ve been eating better, and making better choices in what I drink, and looking into an exercise option that would be fun enough for me to keep doing it.
A few weeks ago, on a whim, I joined a gym.
I wasn’t super-optimistic, but I was armed with audio dramas (of the Doctor Who variety, because I’m awesome like that) and I figured that at least having something to occupy my mind would keep me from hitting critical boredom levels.
And then, something strange happened.
Within a week, I found myself… actively WANTING to go to the gym. My body wanted the exercise. And more surprisingly, to me, my mind did, too.
I honestly never expected to actually ENJOY spending time at the gym- I had so many bad experiences at gyms, both in school and out, that it seemed utterly impossible.
But it turns out that when the goal is to make myself feel good, physically and mentally, rather than change my body for some fucked-up societal standard of beauty and acceptability, everything changes.
I have finally reached a point where I do not give one single fuck if anyone at the gym is judging my body or ability. I’m not there to impress or please any of them.
I am choosing to care for myself.