This week in Pilates class, I casually used the phrase (as I do in many classes):
“Stop gas, stop urine.”
With a completely straight face.
Meanwhile, I later found out, my very British friend was next to me practically convulsing trying to hold in laughter.
For context, I’ve been teaching an in-person Pilates class here in Barbados, but in a very… Joanie corrective exercise kind of way. I was originally trained in a pretty classical Joseph Pilates, but after 20 years of corrective exercise, nervous system work, pregnancy/postpartum coaching, breath work, and seeing approximately a thousand pelvic floors gripping for dear life… things have evolved a bit.
So now my classes involve core activation, breathing, pelvic floor awareness AND release work, and apparently me confidently saying phrases like “stop gas, stop urine” into an open grassy field in the middle of an animal park.
Life comes at you fast.
Anyway, the next day my friend was retelling me the story while laughing so hard she could barely get the words out, and it made me realize how VERY American I sound.
Because I’ve learned something living around both Bajans and British expats: these are VERY different cultures. 😂
Bajans, in my experience, tend to be a little reserved at first. But once they know you? Absolute chaos. Hilarious. Loud. Storytelling. Full personality.
The Brits, however, seem to maintain a fairly consistent level of emotional restraint at all times—which, honestly, I’ve grown weirdly fond of. There’s something incredibly endearing about it. As an American who will discuss pelvic floor function, childhood memories, and emotional processing before appetizers arrive, I’m actually kind of in awe of the ability to remain composed and understated. 😂
But honestly, the whole thing got me thinking about fitness, bodies, and what gets lost when we try to make movement too polished.
One of my favorite classes here is this completely chaotic spin class. On paper, it’s objectively “worse” than the fancy boutique classes I used to teach in NYC. The bikes are half broken, there's no AC, the instructor’s Bajan accent is SO thick I miss half the jokes, and the Soca music is blasting so loudly your soul briefly leaves your body.
And yet… it’s one of the BEST classes I’ve ever taken.
Because it feels so ALIVE.
And I think modern fitness sometimes loses that. We clean everything up. Optimize everything. Aestheticize everything. Try to make movement look beautiful and marketable and perfectly curated for Instagram.
Meanwhile real bodies are sweaty, asymmetrical, emotional, compensatory, weird little creatures.
And corrective exercise lives in THAT reality.
I’m not teaching perfect posture or tiny waists or whatever fitness culture is yelling about this week. I’m teaching people how to reconnect to their body honestly—even if the cue is “stop gas, stop urine.”
Because bodies don’t need perfection to heal. They need safety. Awareness. Options. Breath. Community. Permission to be human.
That’s the stuff that actually changes people.
And honestly, I think that’s why I love teaching here so much. There’s something deeply healing about teaching Pilates in a grassy field while peacocks scream in the background ( I have a feeling there is a much more scientific word for the sound they make) and roosters wander through class like they work there.
Nothing about it is polished. But somehow it feels more connected. More embodied. More real.
And maybe that’s true for all of us. Movement. Motherhood. Hormones. Aging. Healing. Confidence.
There’s so much to gain when we stop trying to become polished little robots and allow ourselves to exist in the messy middle instead.
If you’re feeling ready to move differently—to reconnect to your body in a way that actually feels supportive and human instead of performative—you can find all my classes, workshops, and ways to work with me here:
—Corrective Exercise Specialist, women’s wellness coach, and your go-to guide through every phase of womanhood. Because fitness, hormones, and real life aren’t always neat and tidy. Sign up for my weekly checks ins of expert tips, laugh-out-loud truths, and the kind of coaching that reminds you you’re not alone in this stage of life.
