This is my size. Its not the typical size range of most fitness models, and certainly not the average size handed to stylists when pulling workout clothes for photo shoots. It goes beyond our societal understanding of what fitness looks like and challenges the perception of who deserves to personify a healthy body. Nonetheless, its a size that has jumped, crunched and jiggled into a few fitness model moments.
Exercise has always been a huge part of my life as a plus-size person. My high school athlete years translated into an adult interest in continuously finding ways to stay active. Ive done yoga, CrossFit, boxing, swimming, powerlifting and running, but my body always stayed in that size 18 spot, making it incredibly difficult to acquire that perfect pair of workout leggings without having to order them online.
And while I was living my best solo fitness life, I never actually felt like a part of the exercise community. I mean, how could I? Most workout attire didnt come in a size 18/20, every time I stepped into a gym I was immediately bombarded with questions about my weight-loss goals, and I was forever surrounded by non-fat people equating eating a slice of pizza to how fat they feel.
I have, for lack of a kinder term, a before body. A body with a belly and ass that stick out no matter the outfit or angle. A body that is not represented as a goal. While I am extremely confident about my body, it is the first thing people notice when I enter a room. It is a body that is denied any form of neutrality as I traipse through the world.
Furthermore, its a body that is constantly questioned when it comes to health and ability. As a result, it took me a really long time to believe that my body was just as strong and just as valuable as omnipresent hardbodies. Seeking out other bodies like mine via any Tumblr blog, website or magazine article I could get my hands on was the first step to truly understanding I could be a healthy, plus-size woman. I really had to see it before I could believe it.