For a long time I never understood people who loved working out. For me, it was another way I stressed myself out. I was inundated with a million methods that were touted as the “right way” to lose weight.
All the focus was on aesthetics, so for a big girl, all I did was get frustrated. Adolescence sprinkled disordered eating habits like confetti all over my experiences and I watched almost helplessly as the pounds kept piling on. Forever on a diet (or breaking my diet), I had no concept of proper nutrition was always preoccupied with losing weight.
I found myself driving everywhere and could barely hit 5,000 steps for the day.
I always saw very pretty, thin girls with their perfect ponytails whipping around as they looked to be the face of fitness. Even now, it can be difficult to find true balance after the starvation habits I learned from social media. I resented the women who, in my mind, represented all that I was not–graceful, athletic and in control.
I moved to Texas from New Jersey for a fresh start. It was supposed to be an easy transition. Get a job, get an apartment, make friends, etc. We all know that is rarely how things work out and in hindsight I was woefully unprepared to deal with the emotional toll of leaving my close-knit family, finding a job as a recent graduate with “no experience” and getting acclimated to a totally different lifestyle.
I used to walk all the time, living and working in the northeast. I would consistently be in the 8,000-12,000 steps range. I found myself driving everywhere and could barely hit 5,000 steps for the day. I joined a big gym chain and went once a week for my favorite class, Pop Pilates, which got cancelled. I stopped going to the gym and ballooned from a size 16 to 22. I needed to make a change.
I learned about Pure Barre from WWE Superstar Nikki Bella. After months of hearing her talk about it, I decided I was going to give it a shot. I found a studio 7 minutes from my apartment and thought I had nothing to lose.
My first time walking into a studio was met with a myriad of emotions. Most of them were smothered by nerves. Almost every girl had a flat tummy, fantastic legs and looked so confident that I felt insecure. I gained so much weight that it felt like I was rolling into the studio.
“How can I help you?” I was greeted with such a cheery smile that it immediately disarmed me and focused me on why I was there. “I needed to lose weight and my current big gym chain was not cutting it,” I told her. I asked a couple of questions and peeked at a class and signed up to take a free session the next day. I had taken Pilates for about 10 years (on and off) so I was familiar with the movements to a degree. I just had to give it a shot.
Ill-fitting, old leggings from college stuck out like a sore thumb among the Lululemon and Fabletics. I wore an oversized wrestling shirt and tried to feel graceful among the pretty backless tops with fabulous straps that surrounded me.
Class started and my teacher, Brandi, was relentless. I felt like an uncoordinated creature who was pretending to be human. I lunged and shook, I gasped for breath at the intensity. After a moment I started to find my rhythm. I listened to the on-the-fly corrections my teacher dished out and tried my best to adjust.
I became so focused on my movements that when I looked around I noticed that all of the girls had their brows furrowed, lips in a thin line, focused on making it through the set. It clicked. We were all the same! Yes, some of the girls are clearly advanced and athletic, but this hurts the same. No one was judging me or even noticing me. We were all working hard.
When we were finally released from the intense set, collective eyes brightened as we earned our stretch. Small smiles accompanied sips of water. We all struggled, we all sweat, we all survived.
At my other gym, I would feel so defeated after an hour long cardio class I barely got through, that it would take me weeks to feel motivated to go back.
After class was done a few girls asked me how my first class was. We chatted amicably, and I relished in the community. The energy was so genuine that despite my soreness I was excited to come back. At my other gym, I would feel so defeated after an hour long cardio class I barely got through, that it would take me weeks to feel motivated to go back. This time I was eager. When the barretender asked me if I wanted to purchase my intro month I told her to sign me up for the year. I knew this was the place for me.
While I wish I could tell you a massive weight loss story as well, I will say that this part of my journey really isn’t about that. I haven’t mastered my diet in a realistic way and I have years of damaging habits to unlearn to truly get to the next level. However, in the 9 months that I have taken barre, I have lost 14 pounds, dropped from a 22 to a size 20, seen my stamina increase, can twerk with sophistication (thanks to the seat exercises) and am no longer winded to run up the stairs. Also, I am almost to a full split.
My 100th class was my favorite class. It came a day after taking a Breaking Down the Barre instructional. I was sweating so much, and it was a bigger challenge because I was doing everything way closer to correct. A few of my favorite teachers happened to be in my class, as well as some of my favorite barretenders and classmates. I smiled and laughed when it was over. I had achieved something that I often doubted my capabilities on. I have signed in, warmed up, kicked butt, cooled down and repeated—100 times. Now, working out is a huge part of my life. I plan my schedule around barre. From a goal of going to the gym once a week to feeling weird if I only hit my barre studio three times per week. I am a part of the barre community and I am better because of it.
About the author
Daniella LeCointe is a writer and fashion enthusiast. She spends her days as an assistant and her nights on her dreams. You can follow her self love/fitness journey @_missclaudine on Instagram.
