Read Ace Jones: Mad Fat Adventures in Therapy for Free Online

all the fat girls must’ve slept in today. I glare at Lilly, and she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
    â€œI swear, they’re always here,” she whispers. “But I usually come on Wednesdays.”
    â€œCan we just leave?”
    â€œNo, this class costs fifteen dollars.”
    â€œYou said it was free!”
    â€œIt is to me because I’m a member,” she whispers.
    â€œWhat?!” I cannot believe this.
    â€œIt’s fifteen freakin’ dollars. Don’t worry about it.”
    â€œDammit, Lilly!”
    â€œQuiet, please, ladies!” the instructor says. Her voice is smooth and mellow, but does nothing to alleviate my anxiety. She says her name is Olivia. I’ve never been to a yoga class in my life and the last time I remember stretching was last week when my keys fell down between the seat and the console in my car. There are twenty-six women in the room. I count them twice, and not a single one looks half an ounce overweight. Which is great, I mean, it speaks volumes for the program and whatnot, but my fat ass is way out of place on this little blue mat. I look around at the tanned and toned women and tell myself to remain calm. Because that’s the point, right?
    I’m thankful when Olivia dims the lights and turns on some soothing music, but she might as well be speaking Greek when she starts in with the instructions. Everyone slinks into position and Lilly whispers, “Just do what I do.” I roll my eyes at her and then, thankfully, Olivia explains what our bodies should be doing in a language I can understand. And so I begin.
    I twist and turn and grunt and stretch, all the while praying I don’t squeeze out a fart and gas every one of these limber bitches to death. I’m having a horrible time, my body is in a world of pain, and I swear I’d walk a thousand miles a day to never have to do this again. Olivia finally gives us a break and I roll onto my back and try to breathe quietly. I hear a commotion and turn to see Olivia getting out the balance balls. I glance at Lilly and shake my head.
    â€œI can’t do that,” I whisper.
    â€œYou’re doing fine,” she lies. “This is the easy part.”
    â€œQuiet, please!” Olivia says. I can’t even get mad at her because, as a former classroom teacher, I completely understand how annoying it is when you’re trying to do something and a couple of assholes in the back won’t shut up. I decide not to open my mouth again because I don’t want to be disrespectful, plus I need to be fully focused to get through the second part of this class.
    Lilly rolls a balance ball my way and gives me a discreet thumbs up. Olivia says something about spinal rotation, and everyone sits on their ball. I ease down on mine, terrified of what might happen. I manage to get my butt situated without falling over, and I swear that a mountain climber just reaching the summit of Mt. Everest couldn’t be more pleased with herself than I am right now. The woman in front of me extends her arms like a bird taking flight. I do the same. I’m a little shaky, but I’m still on the ball. She starts moving her arms, but I sit still. When I feel steady enough, I start to move my arms and, lo and behold, I stay on the ball! That little victory makes me feel so confident that when everyone reaches out to touch their toes, I reach for my toes, too. My fingertips are almost down to my ankles when my balance ball flies out from under my rump. I look around in a panic and watch it bounce off the noggin of the lady behind me. It knocks her ponytail sideways and I can see that she’s not happy, but she flashes a smile and fixes her hair. I whisper an apology, but she puts a finger to her lips, then points to the front of the room. Lilly chases down that bastard of a giant ball and I get some dirty looks from my fellow yogis. I get back on my mat and look straight ahead. That’s when