Anxiety about going to the gym sucks
On Black Friday I joined the YMCA. There was no joining fee. I have paid for my membership for the past three months and I have not gone once.
I don’t like when people look at me. I don’t want to wear the wrong clothes.
I have plans to go. Then I don’t go.
When I was ten, I took a ballet class. The class had already started, I wasn’t there the first day. And, the class I went to I arrived late. Everyone was already sitting on the floor stretching. I sat down and did what everyone else was doing. I pulled my feet together and tried to stretch my knees to the floor.
Everyone turned and looked at me.
I put my white sneakers together and tried to stretch my jeans to the floor.
The other girls had on leotards and ballet shoes.
I know I didn’t quit the class. I have only two memories from the class, the one I just described, and on the day of the final performance. I don’t remember going to the store to buy the right shoes, I don’t remember any of the classes, I don’t remember dancing on stage.
I remember the white sneakers on the first day, and I remember the teacher jerking my arm while I waited to go on stage as she placed me in the right place in line. I was wearing a pink leotard, a tutu, and pink ballet shoes.
I didn’t take the class again.
Yesterday I stood naked in my bathroom, weighed myself, and took all my measurements. A year from now, I will take my measurements again, and weigh myself again.
Under the question mark for the date, February 20th, 2018 I wrote, “I’ll be back.” Then I erased it.
Is the question mark a question about what I will weigh? Or is it a question about if I will change?
p.s. Tomorrow morning I have plans to go to the gym.
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About Pamela Hodges
My name is Pamela Hodges. I am a writer and an artist. I write to encourage and to bring laughter. I paint cats, draw cartoons and write books for children and grown ups.