Stop Hating On My Lady Parts

Sadness, Perky Bottoms is on a medical leave of absence from the YMCA and while she’s off cooling her heals I am stuck with a substitute instructor that… um… is a douche bag. This interim fitness dude is the same guy who teaches all the hard core boot camp classes and other random sweat till you vomit your right lung through your left nostril nonsense – but ahem…. Pardon et vous, this is a step class so maybe DROP the incessant drill sergeant barking son, OK?

On top of his abrasive bug dog demeanor this guy is also one of my least favorite types of Gays, he is the woman hating gay. Not only does he hate woman he assumes that we also hate ourselves and secretly wish were hard bodied, fully waxed, with a 9 inch schlong throbbing between… ok you get it. I’ve experienced these Gays before at other gyms, they attempt to motivate by yelling at a room full of women, “You don’t want those hips!!!”, “Summer is coming soon, work off that ass ladies!!”, “Pull those arms in closer, you want to lose that chest”. HOLD UP! REALLY? Why would I EVER want to lose my money makers? These round soft spots are my parts that make me a woman, and true though I may not be the preferred dish on the majority of American Males’ menus the discerning connoisseurs that ARE worshiping at this temple would be sorely remiss if I lost my lady lumps.

I am all for getting to a place where each individual feels their best, for some that is flat and hard, and for others it’s curvy and soft – or any place on the spectrum in between. I’m also fine with an instructor utilizing GENDER NEUTRAL verbiage to target body parts, but to listen to a man screaming at a room of woman for an hour about how much they all must HATE their unattractive womanly bodies, and if you didn’t you should now, makes me want to smother this smug tiny tot between my two heaving breasts.