Walking towards the large threshold to the REC center is daunting for anyone, more so when you aren’t “in shape.” In order to enter, you have to pass the post-work-out crew grabbing smoothies to your right, and to your left are those individuals who look like they're planning to take on a dystopian government with the amount of weights they are lifting. Clutching your rolled up mat seems about all you can do to cope until you reach the gate keepers of fitness and fumble with your student ID, waiting for them to let you enter. Once you have passed through the chrome gates towards fitness Valhalla, it’s time to ascend the steps towards your sweaty classmates.

Last year, I signed up for my first instructed yoga class. Sure, I had dabbled in yoga before, but it was never something so specific to need an instructor. When I first walked through the classroom doors, I panicked, practically jogging towards the back corner. There, I rolled out my mat and began attempting to stretch while everyone shuffled in. My anxiety grew every time a new person walked through the door, confirming what I had already assumed. None of the people were as plus sized as me. Not one.

I was beginning to feel safe and comfortable in my back corner, hidden away from anyone to see the fat girl mess up. Then someone unrolled their mat in front of me. To be honest, I’m the squat plus-size girl that needs help reaching things off of the top shelf. As I type this, you should know that I love my body. But this was the first quarter I had decided to officially immerse myself in the fitness crowd, and I didn’t want them to think I couldn’t do something because I was fat; it’s just because it was my first time doing it.

So, the more the class became instructional, the more I was peering over people (probably causing my mat neighbor to give me annoyed side glances) just to see what pose I was meant to do, let alone how to do it safely. Some of the poses weren’t horrible; some were downright fun actually, but for the life of me I will never understand how 'child’s pose' and 'downward-facing dog' were meant to be the relaxation poses.

We’ll start with the dissection of the 'child’s pose.' Essentially, your hands are meant to be outstretched in front of you while you kneel over your knees:

However, when attempted, that is not how it felt. Now, I can’t speak for any individuals who fit into the “thin” category -- which, let’s be honest, is vague no matter who describes it -- but it wasn’t very comfortable for me as a plus-size lady. My stomach basically worked as a buffer between my chest and knees, never allowing them to touch; rather than being firmly planted on top of my feet, my butt was so high you’d think it was trying to float away; my head didn’t touch the mat, so it was hovering awkwardly over the it, kind of like if an alien was deciding whether or not it wanted to make a sweaty crop circle on a yoga mat or not; and my body was so rigid from trying to fit in with everyone’s effortless rendition of the pose that it was more relaxing to stop the pose than be in the pose. Near the end of the quarter, I realized that spreading my knees helped more, but I’m not sure if that was proper yoga technique or just my own way of trying to become more comfortable for extended periods of time.

Then, there was 'downward-facing dog.' You're on your hands and tip toes, your booty stretched out to make your back look flat. The goal is to look like an inverted V:

That being said, it was probably the most uncomfortable pose I had to do, which was problematic seeing as how we did it at least once a day. It felt like the majority of my weight was being put onto my hands, which kept slipping on the yoga mat. My feet also kept slipping on the mat, so it felt more like a test to see how tense I could keep my body before I face planted. And all the while, I’m trying to suck in my stomach because I’m self-conscious of someone possibly seeing it peep out of my shirt while they are bent over. So an uncomfortable pose, in an uncomfortable atmosphere was probably the worst situation I had faced.

Yet, even while it felt like I was walking towards judgement day every time I entered the REC center, I always felt better after the class. It gave me more energy to start the day with some extra endorphins pumping through my system. Walking out of the yoga class was also a completely different experience than walking in.

Rather than feeling like I was the elephant in the room, literally and figuratively, I felt like a rockstar. Yes, I had sweat pooling on my forehead, and yes, the small amount of makeup I had put on was replaced with a nice red and splotchy complexion, but I had conquered all of that to do something I wanted to try. I kept going back, knowing I would be the only plus-size person in the classroom, and I didn’t care, because even with the uncomfortable poses, yoga was fun. One workout made me want to try other workouts. I’m still plus-sized and proud, but I feel like I would make it a little bit further in an apocalypse movie. I’ll keep going, regardless of size or appearance, until I feel I am the heroine of the story. Because, let's be honest, anyone and everyone can be the star of their own movie, no matter what they look like.