On Self-Consciousness. in Whey and Sonic Screwdrivers.

No secret I was a gymrat for many years. My reasons ranged from building a buffer of lean body mass as insurance in the event of personal illness or injury, to the personal validation of picking up heavy stuff. Deadlifts are fun! Thing is, I never got hyuge. I was basically a strong twink. Nothing wrong with that.

Sometimes I’d have friends say they’re too self-conscious to go to the gym. I’d tell them “nobody cares.” And really, nobody does. No matter your body type or weight on the bar, the fact that you’re there is what matters.

I’m fat now. No, really, trust me. So, now I get it. It’s not that anybody cares. NOBODY CARES. It’s that I care, I’m the one that’s an iota self-conscious. If you’re feeling confident, that’s that. But if you’re not feeling confident, that nobody cares simply doesn’t matter.

(Don’t worry, told the ewwies in my head to go fuck themselves.)