The New Ego

The next morning, I woke up earlier than usual. The house was quiet, the kind of quiet that feels heavy, like it's waiting for something to happen. I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the gym bag I'd packed the night before.

"Today's the day," I told myself.

But before I could leave, I had to face the family

I walked into the kitchen to find my mom at the stove, flipping pancakes. The smell of butter and syrup filled the air, and for a moment, I hesitated.

"Maybe I'll skip the gym today," I thought. "Just one pancake won't hurt."

But then I remembered the decision I'd made—the New Me.

"Morning," I said, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl.

My mom turned, surprised. "You're up early. And eating a banana? Who are you, and what have you done with my son?"

I forced a smile. "Just trying to be healthier."

She raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything else.

My dad walked in next, already dressed for work. He glanced at the banana in my hand and nodded.

"Good choice," he said. "But don't forget, you need protein too."

"I'll grab some eggs later," I replied, though I wasn't sure if I meant it.

My older brother, Alex, stumbled in next, still half-asleep. He grabbed a pancake from the stack and plopped down at the table.

"What's with the gym bag?" he asked, mouth full.

"I'm going to the gym," I said, trying to sound casual.

Alex snorted. "You? The gym? Good luck with that."

I felt my face heat up but didn't respond.

My sister, Mia, was the last to join. She was already dressed for her part-time job at the library, her hair tied up in a neat bun.

"You're actually going to the gym?" she asked, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

"Yeah," I said, defensively. "Why is that so hard to believe?"

She shrugged. "I just hope you stick with it. You know how you are with… new things."

Her words stung, but I knew she wasn't entirely wrong.

The gym was a five-minute walk from my house—a small, no-frills place with basic equipment and a few posters of ripped athletes on the walls.

I hesitated at the door, my stomach churning.

"What if everyone stares at me? What if I'm too fat to even use the machines?"

But I pushed the thoughts aside and walked in.

The guy at the front desk was friendly, if a little bored.

"First time?" he asked, handing me a clipboard with the membership form.

"Yeah," I said, trying to sound confident.

"Don't worry, man. Everyone starts somewhere."

His words were reassuring, but as I filled out the form, I couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place.

When I got home, sweaty and exhausted, my family was in the living room.

"How was the gym?" my mom asked, looking up from her book.

"It was… okay," I said, dropping my gym bag by the door.

"Did you actually work out, or did you just stand around?" Alex teased.

"I worked out," I snapped, more sharply than I intended.

"Easy, tiger," he said, holding up his hands. "Just asking."

Mia glanced up from her phone. "You know, if you're serious about this, you should probably clean up your diet too."

"I'm working on it," I muttered, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water.

My dad was sitting at the table, reading the newspaper. He looked up as I walked in.

"Proud of you, son," he said, his voice quiet but sincere.

I froze, the glass halfway to my lips.

"Thanks," I said, feeling a lump in my throat.

Later that night, I sat in my room, staring at the gym bag in the corner.

"Why does it feel like they don't believe in me?" I thought. "Or maybe… they're just waiting for me to fail."

But then I remembered my dad's words. "Proud of you, son."

It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep me going.

As I lay in bed, I reflected on the day.

"I went to the gym. I faced my family's doubts. And I didn't give up. That's three wins today."

It wasn't easy, and there were moments of doubt and discomfort, but I was starting to see the possibilities.

"This is just the beginning," I told myself. "The New Me is here to stay."