If you know me for long enough you’re sure to learn that I was a Girl Scout. Not just any kind of Girl Scout, though, I was a Gold Award-winning super-scout that spent years as a camp counselor, too. I carry with me a satchel of skills learned in my youth. I routinely impress people in all kinds of situations with my knot tying and ability to light a one-match fire.

Part of that satchel is, unfortunately, some leftover baggage from having been a fat kid. I have been fat as long as I can remember, there was never a moment where I “got” fat. Currently I am about a size smaller than I was when I graduated high school. I only wish I had been able to shed some of that fat shame early and treasured a lot more of the experiences I had as a teen, instead of dreading doing anything with my body and other people.

In scouts we would go camping about 6-8 times per year and usually hiking would be involved. I hated it because no matter what I would end up huffing and puffing at the back of the pack, more concerned with how I was holding people back and the physical toll it took than enjoying the scenery. As soon as I was a grown up and able to make decisions about recreation, I chose not to hike even when camping.

During my recent trip to California, my friend Anna* and I decided to go to Yosemite National Park for an overnight. We discovered once we got there that other than a couple of short nature walks, the real experience was in taking a hike up a mountain. I was prepared for this with a decent pair of sneakers (I no longer own hiking boots) and the resolution that I was going to go up this mountain on my terms.

I offer the disclaimer here that I am not suggesting anyone embark on any physical exertion without talking to their doctor first and making sure they have the proper equipment for whatever they are doing.

I made sure I had water, a bandanna, my ID, a small first aid kit and that I was comfortable. I know in scouts I would have gotten a lot of flack for hiking in a cute shirt and a skirt (it’s actually a skooter from Torrid, but it sure looks like a skirt!) and a full face of make-up, but I think it’s important to challenge yourself in reasonable ways. One thing I’ve learned from camping out at the Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival is that one need not sacrifice style for the wilderness. Plus, my make-up is mineral make-up so it’s sort of like wearing a bit of the mountain already.

I also told my companion, Anna, a fattie on the inside and a good fat ally, that she was at liberty to go on ahead of me if she wanted to, that I was going to be hiking at my comfort level. I wouldn’t have offered that if we were on an isolated trail, but the Vernal Falls trail even in October was bustling. She knew better than to try to egg me on with “you can do it’s!” and other typically well-meaning-but-it-sure-sounds-patronizing-just-ignore-me-already stuff fatties hear when we exercise.

On this hike I listened to my body. It is a really steep trail, and I went pretty slowly. I made sure my breathing was never labored and I felt like I was going at a rate that felt like a good challenge but was not too much. I also made sure I enjoyed the surroundings of the gorgeous trail–looking at the trees, smelling the amazing mountain air , admiring the incredible waterfall and spotting wildlife. In contrast to hiking as a youth, where I just couldn’t wait to get it over with, I really invested in enjoying the experience.

Since I saw so many people on the trail I knew I was the fattest person on that trail. But I sort of knew that people were looking at me more because of my cupcake backpack than the fact that I’m a fattie. And who cares what other people think, as long as I’m enjoying myself and feeling really grateful to be a New Yorker on a mountain in one of the most gorgeous places on earth?

I made it about an hour and a half up that mountain and decided I’d had enough. The trail had turned into steps, I was pretty close to the top but the steps were granite, covered in silt and were slippery. I didn’t want to fall down on my way back. So I told Anna (who kept hiking ahead of me and then waiting for me) to go as far as she wanted to and find me on the way back down.

On our way back to the Valley floor (she caught up with me) we saw a youth group hiking up. The kids were scattered across about a half mile of the trail, and sure enough the fatties were towards the back. I smiled broadly at them. I wish there was a way to make it so the speed of the kids on this group outing on the mountain was value-neutral. That it was more about the experience of being on the mountain and loving the scenery and not about the huffing and puffing to keep up. I wish there was a way for these kinds of growing up activities to not be a competition.

I was rewarded up at the top of my hike with a rainbow in that waterfall. I’m a homo, these things matter to me.

As an adult, I know I excel in a lot of areas, some of them physical, but “walking up hills for fun” is not my forte. But listening to my body and doing something I really enjoyed was the way I was able to reclaim something unpleasant from my youth on my own, new (and far more stylish) terms.

Knot tying though, knot tying I continue to enjoy…

*Anna is the Technical Editor for my podcast, FemmeCast: The Queer Fat Femme Podcast Guide to Life, and is single. We have a new minisode out, a road trip edition!