How I Went from Crying about a Stranger on a Bus Calling Me Fat to Quitting Gym

I decided to cancel my gym membership. I live in Sweden and there is no lockdown whatsoever but I’m cautious about how much time I spend surrounded by people. I thought it’d be best if I skipped gym for a while. I also don’t enjoy it that much. I used to. Gym used to be a highlight of a day and nothing would make me feel more powerful fucking woman than leaving a session knowing I squatted 5 kilos more than last month. Right now I’m just not that hyped about it. Also, I can’t lift as much as I could before since I was going to the gym less and less around this time last year, stopped when pandemic hit for the first time and started again in July. I’ll come back to that.

I’ll still try to stay active for my health’s sake. Not in hope to upload a picture showing my steel abs. Or? Maybe it will happen. Follow me on Instagram @toma_ruh to keep yourself posted.

As I was imagining how I walk into the gym to cancel or freeze my membership I realized I don’t feel anxious about it. Before, when I’d go to my parents’ for few weeks or a month I’d be STRESSED that I won’t be able to hit the gym. I was so afraid I’ll gain weight. How dumb is that? Who the hell cares?

Well I cared a lot. And I thought everybody else did.

Even though I was so afraid that I’ll get fat or that I’m actually fat (hi body dysmorphia) I was pretty slim. For the past couple years I’ve been around the same, as I considered, almost ideal weight. Until the pandemic of course. I also got into new, healthy relationship. Hence, I was home a lot and had a lot of delicious food. Was also very happy despite the situation.

So I gained some weight. I noticed it for the first time when my favorite skirt felt tighter and my boyfriend confirmed I might have gotten fluffier. But I didn’t care that much. My cheecks looked more full in selfies but I don’t post many of those anyway. So I was unbothered. Until the very end of May.

I and my boyfriend were on a bus, tired and sweaty as hell since we spent the whole day cleaning my old apartment and taking some stuff to the new place. The bus was almost empty. And here he was – middle aged, balding, flip-flops wearing man – video chatting with someone and commenting on everything that moves. Like the bus. Or fourteen year old girls walking the street. He’s comfortable. He is chill as hell. He speaks in his native language and nobody can understand.

Well well well. Who could have thought. I speak the same fucking native tongue.

I’M A SPY.

TikTok video by @brendabarette

As nobody misses a chance to get his opinion about their looks, I know my turn is coming. I’m clenching my fists. I’m ready for this.

And it does come. To put is simple he just calls me fatty. But it’s a more slangy word in Lithuanian. It’s the last stop. He’s the first one to get to the doors.

I poke on his shoulder, he turns around and I say in our common first language: “I’m sorry, you were saying something?”

When I say his soul left his body…

Of course, he doesn’t say anything to me and just turns to his phone and says: “Busted”

Then I go: “If you have something to say, please do. Say directly to me”.

The man has gone through all stages of grief during those 5 seconds. He is at the bargaining stage now. He starts saying: “I was just.. It wasn’t you I was talking about. I was looking at my phone and…” Right, my dude. Like you weren’t saying busted three seconds ago.

We get out of the bus. He then proceeds to say I attacked him and he wasn’t even talking about me and that I’m crazy. But it’s time for us to say goodbye. I and my boyfriend have a tram to catch.

My boyfriend at that point is completely lost. He didn’t understand anything that happened so I translate it to him while starting to sob uncontrollably. He was feeling bad about it but at the same time he was like: “You care what HE has to say? Look at him”. And I completely agree. Even if he wasn’t wearing flip-flops in public in SWEDEN where summers are around 20 degrees Celsius, why would I care about what some kind of stranger, (especially a man. It’s 2020 for god’s sake, KAM am I right), has to say.

But it got into my head really good. If you haven’t read my story about my fat-shaming filled younger days, I was bullied as a kid and all weight related comments are really hard to take.

I was analysing every girl’s that I saw figure. Okay I look like her right? And she is pretty. And she is so happy. And I do have the same body as her. And she’s like pretty average? And even if she wasn’t. Even if you aren’t. Wherever you fall on the size spectrum, you’re beautiful and you’re stunning and if you say otherwise I will come to your house and we will have a talk.

I convinced myself that because I gained weight, I’m dumb, unattractive, overweight, unworthy, untalented (I watch too much TikTok, here’s the reference to this).

I was trying my best to tell myself otherwise. Despite my boyfriend gassing me up, friends telling that weight gain is literally the shittiest, most insignificant thing to worry about, I couldn’t fully accept the fact that nobody gives a damn about my weight and I shouldn’t too as long as I’m healthy and happy.

I joined gym again, was mourning jeans that I couldn’t fit into anymore but also hoping that after few months I’d be able to wear them again. They’re kinda ugly tho. I think they’ll have to go during the before-Christmas de-clutter session.

I realized I hate gym. I don’t feel that lifter’s-high after leaving the gym, there’s always dudes screaming and grunting after every chest press. It’s just isn’t my happy place anymore. Also, meal planning, What I Eat in a Day videos, dreaming I’ll be Hanna Öberg when I grow up, is not something I enjoy now. There are so many things I I love more now. Like drawing, writing, reading, eating delicious food, watching movies, taking walks. And as I’m doing more and more things, setting higher and crazier goals for myself, I realize that I don’t really care how squishy my stomach is. I’m just happy.

So one day I was like wait a god-damn minute. I’M HEALED. I DON’T GIVE A SHIT ANYMORE.

As I was starting to get less upset with something so trivial as chubbier cheeks or tummy fat, I uploaded this reel to Instagram:

Reel from my Instagram @toma_ruh

I weigh 10 kilos more than what I considered my “best” weight and I’m quitting gym. If some misogynist prick doesn’t like that, they can kindly piss off. I love my body and myself.

I think I’ll try yoga now.

Until next time.

xoxo,

Dan Humphrey.

(What’s with the pop culture references today? Gosh)