I didn't start here. I started behind a desk at a Club Pilates.
Between phone calls, checking members in, and observing class flows, I was integrating what I already knew with what I wanted othered people like myself to feel when they visited the studio.
I watched people rush in from traffic, from work, from the weight of everything they carry — giving themselves one hour before returning to reality. I could see what they were bringing through that door before they even touched the handle.
A Black woman navigating an expensive luxury in a space that was not built for me. I had to advocate for accessibility in the face of social rejection — instructors ignoring me, being talked at instead of talked to, treated like a stain in the class dynamic rather than a reason the room was better.
Little did they know, I was fresh out of grad school already pairing psychology with movement science and biomechanics.
Women desire to move their bodies to escape the systemic and systematic pressures of society — an attempt to release intergenerational trauma and complex health issues. And yet, in a place meant for release and acceptance, they are met with a constant reminder they do not belong.
So I became her.
When you pair movement with psychology, a new world unlocks.
This work is a slow burn. It asks you to sit in your most vulnerable moments — on the reformer, in your body, in your truth — and stay. Not perform. Not push through. Stay.
That's what this work is. Not fitness with a wellness disclaimer. Not therapy with resistance springs. It is the space between — where your body finally gets to tell the truth.
When you walk through this door, you will feel necessary.
Not accommodated. Not modified as an afterthought. Necessary. Like the room needed you to be in it.