Three smiling plus-sized women in activewear exercising together in a living room, one lying on a yoga mat, two leaning over.

Tasha and Riley stood side by side, their plus‑sized frames filling the living room with presence. Both wore leggings stretched snugly over their thighs, shirts already clinging to their curves before the workout even began. They exchanged a nervous grin. The instructor’s voice rang out: “Let’s start with five star jumps!” The Star Jumps Jump one: Their bodies lifted awkwardly, curves bouncing, arms flailing. Their thighs slapped together audibly, and they both laughed mid‑air. Jump two: Their bellies shifted with the motion, pulling at their shirts. Riley’s breath caught sharply, chest heaving faster than she expected. Jump three: Tasha’s calves burned, her knees wobbling under the sudden demand. She groaned, “My thighs are staging a protest.” Jump four: Sweat already dotted their foreheads, their cheeks flushed crimson. Riley wheezed, “I think my lungs just quit.” Jump five: They collapsed onto their mats, curves settling heavily, arms sprawled wide, panting like they’d just run a marathon. “Okay, workout complete,” Tasha joked, raising a shaky fist. “Best five seconds of my life,” Riley added, giggling between gasps. Forced to Continue But the video pressed on. “Great job! Now let’s move into squats!” They groaned in unison, dragging themselves upright. Their bodies felt heavy, sweat sticking their shirts to their backs. Each squat made their bellies press against their thighs, their knees creak, their breath grow ragged. “Why do people call this fun?” Riley asked, See more