Saturday, February 03, 2007

fuckoffassana

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?"

7 comments:

Jen said...

That is horrible. I can't imagine why the lady would have kept on, after seeing that you were uncomfortable, or why she would have asked the question at all in the first place. But don't let her idiocy keep you from class.

Too bad in that situation that probably no one would be composed enough to say, "No, I am just fat, so please shut the fuck up!" If someone was to give her that kind of a response maybe she would learn that it is not an appropriate question. How rude of her.

JJisafool said...

My wife was asked that while standing in line at Arby's, which doubled the distress - "Ohmygod, I'm so fat she thinks I'm pregnant! OHMYGOD I'm standing in a fucking Arby's!" That's a shame spiral right there, I'll tell ya. Took me many hours to get her out of that one.

~A~ said...

I would have done the same thing. Ran out of there. And then sitting here after the fact wishing I had said something like, "No I'm just extremely out of shape, that's why I'm here, so I can fix my belly. Unfortunately there's no cure for your mouth."

I hate it when people knock me off my snarky game.

Keep eating right, keep working out, it's a little slower than puking but it's much healthier. ;)

I hope bitchass feels like total shit. But I doubt it. People like that are hollow shells of humanity. Fuck her. I hex her with crap loads of laundry for making you feel bad.

xoxo

Stine said...

Well as a 5 foot 11, 190 pound amazon, and a sexy one to boot, I'd have to say, knowing Beck, that she is neither "fat" nor "out of shape". She may not feel as healthy as she would like, but that is an entirely different context than the one above.

That said, I think that this situation totally sucked, I think people are clueless and tactless, and I pity the commenting yoga woman's intelligence, and her sense of timing.

I believe, that it is imperative however, to accept oneself, and one's reactions whatever they may be at any given moment. What you get to do now is buck up, love yourself anyway, accept your reality, and continue to do things to take care of yourself and make yourself feel well. That is your focus, that is your intent. This is a perfect opportunity to give yourself that gift.

Take care my dear, I am thinking about you.

Katy said...

I could track her down and flick her in the eye if you want.

I think you're beautiful and fabulous, and really really great.

I love you.

A Man without a Band said...

Only thing I can say, besides I'm sorry, and that I'm a big fan of constant self improvement, both physical and mental (although I could use a little more focus on the well-being of the body, myself), is that as I was reading, I felt most certainly that you were going to say that the guy in the class was the one to say it, and I was going to be once again embarrassed of the actions of many of my gender.

Jacques Roux said...

Dammit!! Here I was reading through the narrative and thinking, "Is this bitch retarded, or what?" Then I was thinking, "Hey, you should tell this Missuz to go back to that class and ask around... 'Is she retarded? Are you retarded?" Well, you get the picture. So since you stole my thunder, I would suggest you go back to that class, and when Miss 50-ish lady shows up again, go grab a hammer out of your bag, walk up to her and ask her, point blank, "Hey, you want your f*^#ing BRAINS bashed in?"

But that's just my two cents...