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Idle Locker Room Chatter

It’s been a little while since I reported on my foray into the locker room. Last week, I worked out at home most of the week, but I got back to the gym and decided that my goal would be to talk to people as I got undressed.

It was a good challenge given the fact that I have been taking yoga and Pilate’s classes that include removing my bra to put on a stretchy yoga top that won’t fly up over my head as I hold the downward dog pose.

Maybe it matters only to me, but I’ve noticed my comfort level decreases exponentially when confronted with buff women getting dressed or undressed right beside me. I cannot say that I’m entirely comfortable standing in my skivvies next to someone who has at least 50 pounds on me; however, conversation seems to be a tad easier with the latter, and that doesn’t sit well with me either.

As I stood there trying to push through some idle conversation, I noticed another woman come in who by anyone’s standards would be very skinny. Even just that term makes me squirm. Would she see herself as skinny or would it be one more label that I toss out into the universe that provides a horrible description of women.

I talked and let’s face it, looked. Even people who look very thin in clothes seem to house lumps and bumps that we would grimace upon seeing on a tabloid magazine at the grocery checkout. A body, naked ones in particular, are just pretty damn goofy looking, which makes me question even more my struggles with accepting my own.

Sure I want to improve myself. Build muscle. Reduce flab. Increase stamina. However, when is enough, enough?

As I looked at the very thin woman getting dressed, she didn’t seem any more comfortable in her skin as I am in mine, and the woman right next to me who was larger than me wasn’t any more upset or at ease than any of the rest of us. I will say that the instructor who has a locker right next to mine seems to be about as comfortable as anyone, or at least she does a pretty good job faking it. She has a great body, but not perfect.

I think I shared in an earlier body-image rant that I want to be comfortable enough in my skin to one day moon someone. I know it seems like a perverse goal to hold, but I want to be able to do it without judgment. It occurs to me, however, that maybe I’m the only one with the gavel, and I’m not sure how to make peace with it. I started this little experiment by just taking a photo of my hand. This evening I wanted to add a picture to the roll. I couldn’t even fall back on the toes, given the long winter months sans-pedicure so I opted for a photo of the dog’s belly. She seemed fine with the idea.

I will say that the more I stand around naked (or nearly so) in the locker room, the less uncomfortable I seem to be. Is that enough movement in a positive direction?

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2 Responses

  1. As I sit here in the rocking chair nursing my little 7 month old to sleep, I wonder, when will I ever feel comfortable naked again? Two babies later, and I don’t think I’ll ever recover….,,,

  2. Hey Lady – Nursing in that chair with that little one is THE most important thing. Go easy, it will happen – maybe you guys can come back for a visit and we’ll moon someone together. 🙂

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