I've been embarrassed at yoga class more than once. You know--the toot slipping out in a forward bend, or taking off your shoes only to realize that your feet smell of--feet. And even though it's pretty universally reinforced that yoga is not a competition, it can still feel kind of shitty when your the only one whose knees are poking straight up while everyone else has gracefully horizontal knees in a cross-legged sitting posture.
But today was the first time I felt truly humiliated at yoga class.
I haven't mentioned it, but I've really been making an effort to take care of myself for the last couple of weeks. I've been walking several times. Have tried to be loving to my body. No dieting--because down that path, at least for me, lies hidden trips to the bathroom to puke--but I really, really have been working on being healthy--physically and mentally.
So--after a pretty long hiatus, I went to a yoga class on Thursday. It was actually lovely. The teacher, Lynn, is a very mellow lady--oldish, very low maintenance--who has a passion for running rivers and has spent a large portion of her adult life on a raft. I felt so good after the Thursday class that I decided to go again this morning.
The focus of the class was heart and shoulder opening--something I particularly hate. But--I decided to be open to it. I was making some awesome progress too. I stopped when I felt over-strained, relaxed my stomach, and tried not to be too uncomfortable with the stretches that made me feel I was presenting my huge boobs on a silver platter.
There were only 3 of us in class. A 30ish guy, me, and a 50ish lady. About 50 minutes into the 90 minute class, we were at the wall doing a shoulder opener. The lady and I were at one wall, and the guy and teacher were at the other. Out of the blue, the lady looks over at me, then looks at Lynn, and asks, "Is she expecting?" Lynn says nothing. She then looks at me and says, "Are you expecting?" I said nothing. She looked back at Lynn, and kind of the guy and asks again, "Is she expecting?"
I kind of froze--and tried to keep my shit together for about 30 seconds. I shook my head at what's-her-name, then before I knew it, I was loosing my shit--like all over the place. I grabbed my mat and keys, and literally fled the room. I drove for a while, then stopped because I couldn't see too well. Then I called Mandy--who talked me down (again)--then I took a little walk.
I realize that what's-her name wasn't trying to be hurtful. I know I look pregnant. I have these skinny little legs and arms, and ALL the extra weight I carry sits in my boobs and belly. But what the fuck? Why did she address the question to the class? Why did she ask it in the first place?
Now I don't know if I want to/can go back to class. I'd like to think that I can be a warrior for myself, and say fuck that bitch, (who I know is really probably not a bitch) and keep on keepin' on. But frankly, I'm kind of whipped. I felt and feel like I was hit by a train--while walking in a place where there were no train tracks. I'm embarrassed about my weight. I'm embarrassed about making a scene.
I don't know what I should do or say when I see tactless bitch lady, or random guy, or Lynn. Part of me hopes I will go back to class, and then in the middle of some pose, look at cunt-lady and then at Lynn and say "Is she retarded?" then look back at CL and ask all cordially, "Are you retarded?" and then look back at at Lynn once more and enquire politely, "Really--IS she retarded?"