Back to The Gym

and why I did it

I looked up the same gym near my place and realized it’s still operating, with the same price as five years ago during COVID. I chose matching gym clothes—an all-white top and skirt, looking like a tennis player—and headed out around 8:30 PM after a simple dinner I made for myself.

I was watching Jon Hamm’s new show on Apple TV. The old me would’ve stayed home to finish the last episode, making excuses not to go.

This morning, I told my friend I was canceling our dinner gathering due to an upset stomach. Actually, I’d made up my mind while on the treadmill last night.

Why did I all of a sudden become so determined to go back to the gym?

My friend visited me from Shanghai last week. She’s extremely skinny by nature. On Friday night, we decided to go out. After I put on my top, I looked like an XXL, while she was an XS.

I’ve gained a lot of weight and hadn’t noticed it until recently. Going from 120 to 140 pounds is significant, especially since I’m not very tall.

Many of my friends go to the gym regularly, but that just made me the one who didn’t go. I don’t agree with their motives—losing weight and becoming more attractive. I don’t need that kind of attention. Not only do I hate stares from strange men on the street, but I also detest the "skinny equals deserving of love" bullshit.

So I gave up on the gym, even though I initially went because I didn’t like how I looked.

So back to the question: Why did I all of a sudden become so determined to go back to the gym?

Before we headed to the bar, my skinny friend looked into my eyes and said, “Oh, your beautiful jet-black hair!”

I was surprised. I knew she meant it.

After arriving in my city, she went hiking on her first day. Later, when trying to get to a restaurant, she chose to rent of those public bike instead of taking a taxi. Before that, she’d gone swimming in the morning.

But she never suggested any of this to me. She never acted like she was better than me because she exercises or is much skinnier. Instead, she just said, “Oh, your beautiful jet-black long hair!”

She has short hair, dyed a fashionable gold, but still with a healthy texture.

If someone cares for you, they won’t impose their lifestyle on you or make you feel inferior for not following it.

Instead, they’ll see the most beautiful things in you—things you might not even notice yourself.

Through her, I realized exercise isn’t something you do for others. It’s not a chore. It’s a habit, one that comes from listening to your body—like getting good sleep and eating regular meals.

Last night, I found myself feeling relaxed at the gym, not pushing myself too hard. For very long time I have not experienced this kind of peace and joy.

Even now, sometimes I didn’t know how to be treated as an independent adult—whether at work, by my parents, friends, colleagues, in relationships, or by my ex.

But in that moment, when she gently and randomly praised me, saying, “Oh, your beautiful jet-black hair!”—that was when I decided to love myself, at least a little bit more.