i know this is gonna sound stupid probably like im a total freak but i have to say it to SOMEONE even if no one knows who i am here. i'm a fitness instructor right like all day every day it's kale smoothies and planks and "listen to your body" and "you got this" and i have to be ON all the time i gotta be upbeat i gotta be positive i gotta be the one who makes everyone feel like they can do anything. and my clients are great dont get me wrong they're sweet people but they NEED me you know and then i go home and it's mom calling again because she cant find her glasses or my son needs help with college apps or my husband is complaining about his back and i'm just. i'm the rock. always. so once a week i do something that is SO against everything i preach it's insane. tuesday nights after my last spin class i drive to this alley behind the old hardware store it's totally dark back there no cameras no streetlights just me and the dumpster. and i eat a double cheeseburger and a large fries. from that greasy place down the street the one i tell my clients to avoid like the plague. i eat it in total silence. no music no podcast no talking to myself just the crinkle of the paper the squish of the bun. it's like a secret little ritual. a dirty little secret. i dont even know why i do it. it's not even about the food really it's just the quiet. the dark. the being completely alone and not having to BE anyone for five minutes. not a trainer not a mom not a wife not a daughter. just. me. stuffing my face with crap food i'd never let pass my lips otherwise. and then i wipe my mouth i toss the wrappers in the alley dumpster and i drive home and i feel... not better exactly. just. different. like i got to breathe for a second. and then the guilt hits me like a ton of bricks. what if someone saw me. what if a client found out. my whole reputation my whole business would be ruined. "your instructor eats that junk?" they'd say. "what a hypocrite." and i know it's probably not that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things but it feels HUGE to me. it feels like the only thing i have that's just MINE that no one else can touch or judge or ask me to fix. sometimes i just sit there for an extra minute after i'm done eating just listening to the hum of the city and the wind and i think about how much i just want to scream. not at anyone just scream. like a primal scream. but i dont. i just start the car and drive home. and then it's wednesday morning and i'm back to "good morning everyone let's crush this workout" like nothing ever happened. like i wasnt just a greasy mess in a dark alley. it's exhausting.