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BODY LOVE, SELF LOVE & BARRE3: JAMIE SPERLING SHARES HER STORY
Jamie Sperling is sharing the story that brought her to barre3—a journey that taught her how to cultivate self-worth and showed her the incredible strength that already existed within her. Read Jamie’s words below (and prepare to be inspired).
My barre3 story began when I was a little girl. I grew up with a loving, but very body-conscious mother. For as long as I can remember, my mom hated her body. She would stand in front of the mirror and pick herself apart, trying to find her worth in what The South Beach Diet, Jazzercise, a breast reduction, and eventually multiple bariatric surgeries could do for her. Still to this day, at almost 60 years old and 85 pounds lighter, she struggles to love herself for who she is and all her body has done (like birthing five babies), and not the number on the scale.
What does this all have to do with me? Unfortunately, it laid the unsteady foundation for how I view my own body—how I felt about my short torso, wider hips, and large breasts. I too, would stand in front of mirrors picking myself apart, repeating a history I knew wasn’t healthy, and saying things to myself that I knew were destructive. I didn’t know any other way.
But my short torso and size 8 jeans didn’t impact my intelligence—I still earned a Master’s Degree—or who I was as a friend, sister, daughter, or eventually wife and mother. I knew I had to take back control and relearn what it meant to love my body, and to love myself.
My fitness journey truly began in 2011 when my now-husband and I were living in Indianapolis. A year out of graduate school, and having just started my first teaching job, I wasn’t in a financial position to pay for studio classes, so I bought three yoga DVDs and did them until I knew the sequences by heart. I felt like I had found my perfect fit—until a friend asked me to join them for a free Pilates class. If I thought I loved yoga, I LOOOOOVED Pilates. I emailed the studio and asked if I could trade working at the studio for classes, and the owner loved the idea.
A few days later, I was at the studio unloading trash cans, cleaning equipment, and rolling out a mat for what would become the second of hundreds more classes I’d attend over the next few months. This is the moment I realized that “fitness” and “working out” meant more than what my body would look like in the end. It had more to do with balancing movement and mindfulness and treating my body as something of value. The idea was so new to me.
When I moved to Wisconsin in June of that year, I tried probably 15 different studios. None were quite like I had in Indianapolis, so after a few years of trying different places, I stopped.
It’s easy to stop, but oh so hard to start again. Fast-forward to six months postpartum with our firstborn, and I found myself craving the movement of Pilates, the mindfulness of yoga, and the time for myself. I bought a pass for 10 classes at a local barre studio and found myself falling in love all over again.
But time, schedules, and motherhood took over, and after those 10 classes, I never went back. Three years later, pregnant with our second child and gaining weight quickly, I was craving movement again. Walking was most accessible for me and for our family’s schedule, so I walked and walked until my waddle kicked in.
This past October, we welcomed our 10-pound 5-ounce son, and while I lived in the euphoria of those newborn days for the first few weeks, I also felt that familiar craving for movement, mindfulness, and time for ME. I was achy, weak, and lacked energy, and I would be lying if I didn’t also mention that my body-image issues were, and sometimes still are, at an all-time high in this season.
Sometimes, I place my worth in the roadmap of stretch marks, the extra 15 pounds, and the cellulite on my once lanky, smooth body. Sadly, I’m not reveling in these as accomplishments. Instead of ‘OMG, you grew and birthed TWO pretty sizable humans and work hard every day to love your family so well,’ my inner dialogue sounds more like ‘Gross, your body is a disaster.’
With two children, a hard-working husband, a small business, a home to run, and school schedules to manage, a 6:30 p.m. barre class at the local studio wasn’t going to happen. Nor was a 5 a.m. yoga class, because when you’re up nursing or pumping through the night, you need your 5 a.m. sleep more than 5 a.m yoga.
But when there’s a will there’s a way, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned as a mom, it’s to fight for the time for yourself. After seeing about 25 barre3 ads on Instagram (they work!), I finally unrolled my yoga mat and signed up for my free 15-day online trial.
One class later, weeping as Lisa guided me through a shaky workout, I knew I needed a membership. The rest is history. I’ve been doing three or more barre3 classes a week and I feel STRONGER, less anxious, and PROUD that my body can birth babies, make dinner for my family, and do Ski Jumps while shushing an infant to sleep. There’s way less negative self-talk and more healthy choices (thoughts and nutrition included).
Barre3 is more than a workout. It’s more than toning my abs and defining my arm muscles. It’s honoring my body, investing in the only one I’ll ever have, and showing my daughter that it’s OK to recognize the imperfections, and to do whatever she needs to change the narrative from how can I fix myself to how can I honor who I am as a person.
Looking to begin your own barre3 journey? The best place to start is with our 15-day free trial of barre3 online workouts. Try it out today!
Jamie Sperling is sharing the story that brought her to barre3—a journey that taught her how to cultivate self-worth and showed her the incredible strength that already existed within her. Read Jamie’s words below (and prepare to be inspired).
My barre3 story began when I was a little girl. I grew up with a loving, but very body-conscious mother. For as long as I can remember, my mom hated her body. She would stand in front of the mirror and pick herself apart, trying to find her worth in what The South Beach Diet, Jazzercise, a breast reduction, and eventually multiple bariatric surgeries could do for her. Still to this day, at almost 60 years old and 85 pounds lighter, she struggles to love herself for who she is and all her body has done (like birthing five babies), and not the number on the scale.
What does this all have to do with me? Unfortunately, it laid the unsteady foundation for how I view my own body—how I felt about my short torso, wider hips, and large breasts. I too, would stand in front of mirrors picking myself apart, repeating a history I knew wasn’t healthy, and saying things to myself that I knew were destructive. I didn’t know any other way.
But my short torso and size 8 jeans didn’t impact my intelligence—I still earned a Master’s Degree—or who I was as a friend, sister, daughter, or eventually wife and mother. I knew I had to take back control and relearn what it meant to love my body, and to love myself.
My fitness journey truly began in 2011 when my now-husband and I were living in Indianapolis. A year out of graduate school, and having just started my first teaching job, I wasn’t in a financial position to pay for studio classes, so I bought three yoga DVDs and did them until I knew the sequences by heart. I felt like I had found my perfect fit—until a friend asked me to join them for a free Pilates class. If I thought I loved yoga, I LOOOOOVED Pilates. I emailed the studio and asked if I could trade working at the studio for classes, and the owner loved the idea.
A few days later, I was at the studio unloading trash cans, cleaning equipment, and rolling out a mat for what would become the second of hundreds more classes I’d attend over the next few months. This is the moment I realized that “fitness” and “working out” meant more than what my body would look like in the end. It had more to do with balancing movement and mindfulness and treating my body as something of value. The idea was so new to me.
When I moved to Wisconsin in June of that year, I tried probably 15 different studios. None were quite like I had in Indianapolis, so after a few years of trying different places, I stopped.
It’s easy to stop, but oh so hard to start again. Fast-forward to six months postpartum with our firstborn, and I found myself craving the movement of Pilates, the mindfulness of yoga, and the time for myself. I bought a pass for 10 classes at a local barre studio and found myself falling in love all over again.
But time, schedules, and motherhood took over, and after those 10 classes, I never went back. Three years later, pregnant with our second child and gaining weight quickly, I was craving movement again. Walking was most accessible for me and for our family’s schedule, so I walked and walked until my waddle kicked in.
This past October, we welcomed our 10-pound 5-ounce son, and while I lived in the euphoria of those newborn days for the first few weeks, I also felt that familiar craving for movement, mindfulness, and time for ME. I was achy, weak, and lacked energy, and I would be lying if I didn’t also mention that my body-image issues were, and sometimes still are, at an all-time high in this season.
Sometimes, I place my worth in the roadmap of stretch marks, the extra 15 pounds, and the cellulite on my once lanky, smooth body. Sadly, I’m not reveling in these as accomplishments. Instead of ‘OMG, you grew and birthed TWO pretty sizable humans and work hard every day to love your family so well,’ my inner dialogue sounds more like ‘Gross, your body is a disaster.’
With two children, a hard-working husband, a small business, a home to run, and school schedules to manage, a 6:30 p.m. barre class at the local studio wasn’t going to happen. Nor was a 5 a.m. yoga class, because when you’re up nursing or pumping through the night, you need your 5 a.m. sleep more than 5 a.m yoga.
But when there’s a will there’s a way, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned as a mom, it’s to fight for the time for yourself. After seeing about 25 barre3 ads on Instagram (they work!), I finally unrolled my yoga mat and signed up for my free 15-day online trial.
One class later, weeping as Lisa guided me through a shaky workout, I knew I needed a membership. The rest is history. I’ve been doing three or more barre3 classes a week and I feel STRONGER, less anxious, and PROUD that my body can birth babies, make dinner for my family, and do Ski Jumps while shushing an infant to sleep. There’s way less negative self-talk and more healthy choices (thoughts and nutrition included).
Barre3 is more than a workout. It’s more than toning my abs and defining my arm muscles. It’s honoring my body, investing in the only one I’ll ever have, and showing my daughter that it’s OK to recognize the imperfections, and to do whatever she needs to change the narrative from how can I fix myself to how can I honor who I am as a person.
Looking to begin your own barre3 journey? The best place to start is with our 15-day free trial of barre3 online workouts. Try it out today!
