Recently, after a Pilates class, a fellow Pilates goer stopped me and said, "I think it’s really brave you come here!" For a second, I wasn’t sure what she meant. Was there a bomb threat I was unaware of? Finally, it dawned on me. She was implying it was somehow brave of me to be attending a Pilates class as a plus-size woman.
Obviously, she didn’t say, "You are fat, why are you here?" but she may as well have, and her words hung in the air. I knew it was my job now to laugh it off, crack a joke, or even offer her some kind of explanation. But instead, I just let the silence hang in the air and then walked off. I wanted her to feel a quarter of the awkwardness I was feeling in that moment.
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This isn’t the first time someone has commented on my size, and I know it won’t be the last, but what is endlessly frustrating for me is that people are more concerned with my size than I am. Before that, women’s comments about Pilates were just a nice escape for me. I didn’t go to class and think about my body fat or my arms or my thighs, I just went and moved my plus-size body.
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