I booked a pilates class for after work today. It’s something I have been doing that the past few weeks when I go into the office and I don’t have anything social planned for after work. I have been loving it, trying different classes but sticking to lower impact workouts to give my muscles a break. The thing is though, in New York City, these classes are not cheap.
The average cost for a single class is around $40, plus or minus. $40!?! I won’t even spend that much on a single skin care item and I do my skin care EVERY DAY. It just seems like an astronomical amount for a single class. Yes you can save a little money if you book multiple classes, packages, or memberships, but I like the idea of maintaining a flexible schedule and trying a lot of different classes.
Maybe once I try a bunch, I can settle on one I like and buy a package but until then, it’ll just be the single classes for me. The thing that I can’t seem to forget about is that I ended up booking it, despite it being so expensive. As soon as I did, I was very excited and ultimately just relieved I made a decision, but I couldn’t help immediately think about the immense privilege that came with it.
I mean it’s F-O-R-T-Y American dollars for a 45 minutes class but I can do it, I can afford that. For fitness. People are starving, people are homeless, people are suffering, but don’t worry everyone, I’m going to attempt to tone my ass with the help of an instructor who weighs as much as a single one of my legs. The hypocrisy of it makes me roll my eyes so much it’s beginning to hurt.
When I asked my partner about it, he basically said don’t be stupid, you love doing these classes and forty dollars will not make or break the bank. This made me feel better but at the same time, for some people it would make or break the bank. Some people, most people could not afford to do the class and eat. I get to do both. It feels odd reckoning with this. I feel lucky and grateful but I also feel a little dirty and very privileged. No one likes to feel privileged. Suffering is one way humans bond. When you’re suffering from the same thing as someone else, you are almost immediately bonded by that trauma. Privilege feels pretentious, snobbish.
I guess I’m wondering if there is a way to appreciate and acknowledge your privilege while not feeling so guilty about it? Or is that the point of acknowledging it, that it comes with a little guilt. That’s the sacrifice for being able to do something like this. A little guilt? It might be a fair trade for toned abs.
