But today I was going to a new studio in NYC where the energy and vibe were different and, admittedly, I was intimidated. Inside I’m still a scared kid some days. And publicly sweating without embarrassment was still on my list of uncomfortable life moments to conquer. Do you know what it’s like to be a 43 year old woman with 36 DD breast implants and feel 9 inside some days? It’s pretty fucked up, I tell you.

I arrived at my first hot yoga class 30 minutes early and waited outside of the studio with my mat, a book, a towel and my bottle of water. Sweating makes me highly uncomfortable because I don’t just sweat, I become a human puddle. It’s a sight to behold and has been so mentally debilitating that I’ve cancelled dates in the summer or begged them to be in the confines of air conditioning and darkness. When I was heavier I navigated the world, walking routes, my presence at functions and my college class schedule based on how much I would sweat.

After 6 months of practicing yoga in Mexico at a studio that felt like a second home, sweating was a reality and it soon became my one liner joke. “AHHHHH, yo sudo mucho!!! Entre mi sudor y mis lágrimas, estoy hecho de agua!” Everyone laughed and my teacher welcomed my sweat and tears reminding me to “Suelte todo,” to release it all. But inside I was mortified. My reflection in the mirror showed me and the class boob sweat, butt sweat, crotch sweat, knee sweat, everything - sweat. But today I was going to a new studio in NYC where the energy and vibe were different and, admittedly, I was intimidated. Inside I’m still a scared kid some days. And publicly sweating without embarrassment was still on my list of uncomfortable life moments to conquer. Do you know what it’s like to be a 43 year old woman with 36 DD breast implants and feel 9 inside some days? It’s pretty fucked up, I tell you.

What better place to get over the fear of sweating than in a controlled space where I imagined everybody else would be doing yoga in their own puddle of human excretion? It was an equally brilliant and terrifying idea. The room was bound to be an adult slip and slide after 75 minutes, and I couldn’t be the only heavy sweater in the group, it was impossible.

The room would be105 degrees and 40% humidity. My worst nightmare as a child and young adult was hot barbecues, the beach, pool parties and water parks. Anywhere I might sweat, chafe or have an onset of sudden heat stroke (I was prone) was my version of fear factor. The fact that I was WILLINGLY going into a room of controlled heat to PURPOSELY sweat profusely around others was fucking bananas. I gave myself no choice but to do it. Breaking down walls. Breaking down fears. Doing hard things in 2024 is what I planned to do. What better place to get over the fear of sweating than in a controlled space where I imagined everybody else would be doing yoga in their own puddle of human excretion? It was an equally brilliant and terrifying idea. The room was bound to be an adult slip and slide after 75 minutes, and I couldn’t be the only heavy sweater in the group, it was impossible.

As I sat outside of the room, I watched a young woman literally mop up human sweat from the class before. My anxiety slowly crept back and I returned to bathe in my own puddle of worry. What if I pass out? What if everyone laughs at me when I pass out? What if I have a panic attack? I recalled my strategy for picking classes and walking around campus in college so as to enter the room with no one watching. I would be the first to arrive at class so I could wipe down, slip into the desks in the back row and not block anyone’s view with my body or distract them with my sweat. When I spoke in class I sweat because I was always nervous and self-conscious. Imagine how much I sweat after I walked from the north to the south side of campus on days when the bus was delayed? But today I swore I would leave that girl behind, as much as I love her, even if I was one small breath in a downward dog away from a potential 911 call. I would do the hard thing by going, sweating, and maybe falling down in front of new people without the security of my teacher or friends to support me and tell me to release it all. How brave? Or, how dumb.

And, I know, this may all sound really fucking strange if you were never a larger bodied person. My fear of the heat and sweating […] Live in a larger person’s body for a day and tell me what you think or if you believe any of this sounds out of the ordinary. Then, after, try being the larger person who lost a lot of weight, who no one recognizes anymore, but who still sweats with the same profuse gusto. It’s a minefield of fuckery.

And, I know, this may all sound really fucking strange if you were never a larger bodied person. My fear of the heat and sweating. I still don’t wear gray t-shirts, keep that in mind and I only started wearing stripes about 5 years ago. I maintained certain boxes even after losing 160 lbs. And you might be thinking, “What’s the big deal, it’s just sweat?” or “It’s only a new class, get over it!” But when you have been conditioned to know that your body and sweat are a target for onlookers, you stop being a person and start perceiving yourself as prey. It took me 22 years post weight loss to see myself as a person who was allowed to take up space in a movement class and even now I’m still reluctant. Live in a larger person’s body for a day and tell me what you think or if you believe any of this sounds out of the ordinary. Then, after, try being the larger person who lost a lot of weight, who no one recognizes anymore, but who still sweats with the same profuse gusto. It’s a minefield of fuckery.

I closed my eyes and reminded myself I was in this hot room to observe myself, my own thoughts and strength. Everyone else’s practice would be theirs and this would be mine. I recalled what my friend Sabina wrote to me the morning before class, “just imagine you are dancing in the rain and enjoy that dance.”

I set my mat down in the class and sat, waiting. To be clear, I set my mat down in the front of the class and waited. I read a single poem from Andrea Gibson’s You Better Be Lightening, a book gifted to me by a friend. My heart pounded in anticipation and with poetry. I closed my eyes and reminded myself I was in this hot room to observe myself, my own thoughts and strength. Everyone else’s practice would be theirs and this would be mine. I recalled what my friend Sabina wrote to me the morning before class,“just imagine you are dancing in the rain and enjoy that dance.”

I enjoyed the dance. I enjoyed the sweaty dance so much I went back again and then I went back again. Everyday is a new opportunity to confront a fear. Since my first class I ran into a man I dated, we were taking the same class, and ordinarily I would have stopped going. But not anymore. I’m still showing up to the classes, allowing my arms to be free, crotch sweat, boob sweat, all of the sweat. The least perfect but most perfect version of myself. Free from judgement of myself and of others.

One Woman’s Fear Of Sweat + Enjoying the Dance