I was...bullied?

I have been meaning to post this blog for quite a while, and so I will just get right into it.

 A few weeks ago I went to the gym at Weber State to work out, something that I do (or at least try to do) on a regular basis. There was nothing special or different about this day. I wasn't dressed different or anything like that, but what happened was...weird...well, unexpected.

 Before my work out I went to the bathroom to freshen up, again, a very normal part of my routine at the gym. I was taking care of business  Now, normally I am all about being open and frank about the normal bodily functions in life (see this blog), but lately I've been attempting to be a little more lady like in regards to when and how I talk about bodily functions. However, for the purposes of this blog I must say that I was indeed pooping. It wasn't any sort of smelly atomic bomb situation, it was just an every day, normal sounds and smells, number two.

So, as I was spending some alone time prepping my body for an hour long stationary bike ride, a group of girls came into the bathroom. One or two of them went into the stalls to pee, while the others looked in the mirror- classic girl behavior.

One of the girls then said aloud to one of the girls in the stalls, "Did you just fart?!" To which one of the other girls in the stall responded with a no. Then all of the other girls in the bathroom started giggling and pointing at my stall, a delightful sight I could see through the cracks of my stall door. All of the girls were holding their mouths and giggling loudly and escaped the bathroom as quickly as they could.

Good job girls, you caught me juggling smiley face jiggly balls in my underwear while playing the newest Weird Al song- what could be more funny? Oh wait, no, I was just doing something we all do every day, and I was doing it in the appropriate place for such activities. I'm sorry for being a human being? I'm sorry for using a restroom to use...the restroom?

Okay, I'm getting off track here. Actually immaturity wasn't what really upset me. I just kinda laughed along, in my head, and went on my business. Oh wait! They weren't done. As soon as the pod of peer pressure college team athletes in matching white t-shirts left the bathroom they said things like, "Oh my gosh! What died in there?!" And made sound effects suggesting a sulfuric nuclear attack that killed off half of their team...and all of this in the gym in front of everyone.

But no, let's add a little bit of whipped cream on our butt-head sundae. All of this was on the weight lifting part of the gym, aka the man-side. Awesome. So when I leave the bathroom everyone (men with rippling muscles in a state of half-dress) who had heard the tale of stink death would know it was me. Thanks a lot ladies, that's just what I want, all of the men in the gym to think I'm a diarrhea bomb...okay, I'm doing it again, getting off track. Like I said, at this point I still wasn't very upset. I'm Laura, I don't care if people know I pooped.

 I POOPED. 

 Okay, we have the sundae and we added some whipped cream , now for the cherry on top. One of the girls apparently rushed out in such a hurry that she forgot to wash her hands, and so she rushed back in with her t-shirt covering the lower half of her face and washed her hands. When she hurried out, consumed by giggles, she shouted, "What died in there?!" Okay, we're finally to the part where I get upset.

 I was sitting there, obviously, and I started thinking. I'm okay. I'm going to strut out in the gym like nobodies business because I don't care. But then I thought of some of my shy friends. I thought of how they get red in the face when any attention is brought to them. I thought of how they would die of embarrassment if they farted in public or accidentally burped aloud. I thought of myself, about a year ago when I was too scared to go to the bathroom in public restrooms. I was afraid of something like this.

My thoughts continued and I thought of people who slit their wrists for much less. I thought about people struggling to pull themselves through the day. Then I thought about them being in my position. I was going to be okay, but how would it have hurt those who have a hard enough time just getting by. I got angry. I felt like these girls were representing their sports team; they should be examples of good citizens on their campus. They shouldn't pressure each other into being jerks, they should build each other up and be kind to their fellow students.

I realize that we can't go around horrified to speak, lest we send someone over the edge. But I think we have to have a certain amount of awareness and respect for the general public. There's a difference between unintentionally hurting someone and straight up trying to make them feel bad. I can only assume that these girls were just giggling because one of them made a mistake about their friend stinking up a bathroom, and they were innocent in all of this to a point. However, when they left the bathroom, announcing to the whole gym that someone stunk up the bathroom they crossed the line.

I'm not suggesting that this is bullying in the traditional sense, or in other words, a group of girls didn't gather around my stall shouting, "PERIOD! PERIOD! PERIOD!" And toss tampons at me. Nobody shoved me into a locker or stole my lunch money. But I was in a university gym...being bullied by a group of women who are supposed to be leaders (I would suggest any athlete for a school automatically becomes a role model, whether good or bad).

Weird, it was weird. When I finished (by the way this all happened in a matter of minutes in real life- this story made it sound like I was in there for an hour, haha) I strolled out of that bathroom standing up straight, unashamed...but I'm Laura. I am glad it was me and not someone who was struggling to make friends or who was struggling to be in public situations.

The moral of the story is to be more aware of how your actions might hurt someone. Take a moment to consider your audience. What might their story be? What trials or anxieties could they be facing? The end. Whew.