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Jess Murphy Shares Her Inspiring Story
Between the ages of 19 and 23, Jess Murphy went from a size 4 to a size 16. She tried every fad diet and quick-fix exercise program in the book, only to be left feeling worse than before. Finally, she discovered barre3, and her life has never been the same since.* Read on for her inspiring (and fun!) story. Here’s Jess in her own words.
When I signed up for my first barre3 class, it was a last-ditch effort. I had tried everything else —and I mean everything—to no avail. I was tired of feeling judged at the gym, tired of the roller-coaster results I got from diet pills, and tired of the truly terrible meal-supplement concoctions I’d force down in place of actual food for lunch or dinner. But most of all, I was tired of looking and feeling miserable. I hoped barre3 might help me at least drop a few pounds and keep them off. I had no idea it would change my life.*
Let me back up a bit. Growing up, I was always really active. My mom owned a dance studio, where I practically lived as a little girl. I danced my whole life, and in high school I was a cheerleader and played on the volleyball team. I was small and fit, and I just assumed I always would be.
Then I went to college. I wasn’t nearly as active as I was for the first 18 years of my life, and I didn’t have my mom there to tell me not to buy the crappy food at the grocery store, or that maybe McDonald’s three times a day would come back to haunt me. Between the ages of 19 and 23, I went from a size 4 to a size 16. I kept telling myself I’d work out “later,” but I came up with every excuse for why I couldn’t: “I’ve got to study” (I don’t think I studied once in college), “I’m having lunch with my best friend,” “there’s another NCIS marathon that I’ve seen every episode of, but I need to make sure I didn’t miss anything,” “it’s Gossip Girl Monday.”
Then dietary supplements, pills, and drinks entered the picture. I didn’t see any point in working out and eating healthy if all I had to do was take two horse-sized pills and drink two disgusting drink-mix concoctions to look like any celebrity out there. I think I did a few squats and crunches every third Friday of the month and called that “working out.”
Then I got my first “big-girl job” teaching in St. Louis. I’m all about family—like would live right next door to my mom for the rest of my life if I could—so moving away was incredibly tough for me. In fact, it was the worst year of my life, and I coped by eating, among other things, Oreos. So. Many. Oreos.
So of course, more weight went on. I found what I thought was my knight in pink shining armor: PLEXUS. I took it religiously, spending an ungodly amount on it every month. I’d lose 20 pounds throughout the month and then gain it back. This pattern continued for six months.
By this point, I was so unhappy with the way I looked and felt that I didn’t even want to leave my house. I even packed up four bins of my “skinny clothes” and took them to a resale shop, pretty much officially giving up. But then I had a wake-up moment. I was trying to pick an outfit out for Thanksgiving and everything I put on—t-shirt, dress, sweater—was too tight. I was fed up, and I was ready to do something about it.
My first plan was to join a gym and work out with my boyfriend. Ha. For any couple that can work out together and not fantasize about bludgeoning the other one with the nearest dumbbell, more power to you. If I wasn’t sweating, I wasn’t working hard enough. If I wasn’t lifting as much as he was, I was slacking. If I said “excuse me” to the large muscle-head man in my way, I was being too much of a “girl.” I felt judged not only by the other gym goers, but by the staff as well.
One of the things that bothered me most about all the things I tried, whether it was a pill or the gym, was that they seemed focused on turning me into something I wasn’t. The message was always, “If you want to look like this trainer/instructor/woman on the diet-pill container, you have to follow this exact regimen.” And I’d just think to myself, “I don’t want to look like her. I want to look like me, just healthy.”
It didn’t take me long to decide that if I didn’t want to burn the gym to the ground, it was time for me to find something else to do. That’s when I found barre3. I had heard about it, but I just assumed it was going to be a bunch of skinny people who were going to make me feel like a complete moron. THANK THE HEAVENS FOR HOW WRONG I WAS. My first class, I was completely drenched in sweat by the end of warm-ups. Throughout the entire hour, the instructor made sure I was doing what felt right for my body. After class, other women stopped to tell me how great I did. Some even shared their first barre3 class experience with me.
I walked out of the studio feeling stronger and happier than I could remember being in a long time.* I called my mom, my boyfriend, my best friend—anyone who would answer their phone—to tell them all about the most amazing workout I’d just had. I couldn’t wait to go back.*
Soon I was going to the studio practically every day and loving every minute of it. I still sweat like a 500-pound man and have to take a million breaks when we do Reverse Chair on the bar, but I always feel amazing when I walk out the door at the end of the 60 minutes. I’m sure when I’m actually doing barre3, it’s like one of those memes that are like: WHAT I THINK I LOOK LIKE DOING BARRE3 vs. WHAT I ACTUALLY LOOK LIKE DOING BARRE3, but that’s ok—I love it.
I’ve also cut way back on my snacking and started cooking barre3 recipes. Today, I’m 75 pounds lighter and in the best shape of my life.* But something even more transformative has happened. The more I heard instructors talk about “honoring your truth,” the more I started to examine my life—not just my physical self, but my whole self. Work, in particular, was an issue for me. I wasn’t feeling valued by my colleagues, and until now I had let this fester. But through my new lens, I saw that if I wanted to be valued, I needed to own my value. This started with realizing that I was very good at what I was doing and that what I had to say was important. It sounds like such a small thing, but it gave me the confidence I needed to offer my opinions and speak up in meetings—even to broach difficult conversations that I would have avoided like the plague before.* And just like honoring your truth in barre3 leads to amazing physical results, honoring my truth at work led to amazing career results.*
I’m thrilled to say that I now wake up early to go to a job I love—and that loves me back—and then I end the day with my closing breaths, feeling stronger and leaner than when I walked through the door at barre3 Des Peres.* I know for a fact that I wouldn’t have the outlook or the happiness I do now in my life if barre3 hadn’t given me the courage to listen to my gut and do what was best for me.*
But if I’m going to wax poetic about honoring my truth, I also have to tell you that I still struggle some days. Sometimes life happens and I “slip” and stop going to the studio regularly. I tell myself I don’t have time, or it’s been a long day and I just need to go home—and the longer I stay away the harder it is to motivate myself to go back. It’s so easy to fall into that negative spiral. But when I walk through the door—after a day or a week, however long it has been since my last class—it’s always like coming home. (My motto: Seven days without barre3 makes one WEAK…haha).*
And the Oreos? Yeah, they still tempt me—especially the white-chocolate-covered ones that hit shelves during the holidays. But rather than wholesale deprive myself of them, I’ll let myself have one—whereas before I would have eaten an entire sleeve of them. Having gone through so many ridiculous extreme diets, it’s important to me that I be realistic. If I tell myself I can’t ever have pizza or french fries, I’m going to fail. But by starting with small changes, I’ve made big changes. The other day I had a sip of my boyfriend’s soda and I thought the syrup was messed up. It was actually normal, it’s just that I’m so used to eating healthy foods now that it tasted awful to me.*
So where do I go from here? Nowhere—and I mean that in the best possible sense. Unlike every quick-fix diet or 30-day-workout I suffered through, barre3 is a permanent part of my life.* It’s not about depriving myself to reach a goal and then quitting when I “succeed.” It’s about living a healthy, conscious life every day. I don’t think of it as an exercise program, I think of it as a lifestyle—one that helped me shed 75 pounds, yes, but also one that taught me to treat myself as kindly as I treat others.* I can’t imagine a more valuable lesson.*
Inspired by Jess’ story? Join barre3 Online or find a studio near you to get started on your own barre3 journey to whole-body health.
*results may vary
Between the ages of 19 and 23, Jess Murphy went from a size 4 to a size 16. She tried every fad diet and quick-fix exercise program in the book, only to be left feeling worse than before. Finally, she discovered barre3, and her life has never been the same since.* Read on for her inspiring (and fun!) story. Here’s Jess in her own words.
When I signed up for my first barre3 class, it was a last-ditch effort. I had tried everything else —and I mean everything—to no avail. I was tired of feeling judged at the gym, tired of the roller-coaster results I got from diet pills, and tired of the truly terrible meal-supplement concoctions I’d force down in place of actual food for lunch or dinner. But most of all, I was tired of looking and feeling miserable. I hoped barre3 might help me at least drop a few pounds and keep them off. I had no idea it would change my life.*
Let me back up a bit. Growing up, I was always really active. My mom owned a dance studio, where I practically lived as a little girl. I danced my whole life, and in high school I was a cheerleader and played on the volleyball team. I was small and fit, and I just assumed I always would be.
Then I went to college. I wasn’t nearly as active as I was for the first 18 years of my life, and I didn’t have my mom there to tell me not to buy the crappy food at the grocery store, or that maybe McDonald’s three times a day would come back to haunt me. Between the ages of 19 and 23, I went from a size 4 to a size 16. I kept telling myself I’d work out “later,” but I came up with every excuse for why I couldn’t: “I’ve got to study” (I don’t think I studied once in college), “I’m having lunch with my best friend,” “there’s another NCIS marathon that I’ve seen every episode of, but I need to make sure I didn’t miss anything,” “it’s Gossip Girl Monday.”
Then dietary supplements, pills, and drinks entered the picture. I didn’t see any point in working out and eating healthy if all I had to do was take two horse-sized pills and drink two disgusting drink-mix concoctions to look like any celebrity out there. I think I did a few squats and crunches every third Friday of the month and called that “working out.”
Then I got my first “big-girl job” teaching in St. Louis. I’m all about family—like would live right next door to my mom for the rest of my life if I could—so moving away was incredibly tough for me. In fact, it was the worst year of my life, and I coped by eating, among other things, Oreos. So. Many. Oreos.
So of course, more weight went on. I found what I thought was my knight in pink shining armor: PLEXUS. I took it religiously, spending an ungodly amount on it every month. I’d lose 20 pounds throughout the month and then gain it back. This pattern continued for six months.
By this point, I was so unhappy with the way I looked and felt that I didn’t even want to leave my house. I even packed up four bins of my “skinny clothes” and took them to a resale shop, pretty much officially giving up. But then I had a wake-up moment. I was trying to pick an outfit out for Thanksgiving and everything I put on—t-shirt, dress, sweater—was too tight. I was fed up, and I was ready to do something about it.
My first plan was to join a gym and work out with my boyfriend. Ha. For any couple that can work out together and not fantasize about bludgeoning the other one with the nearest dumbbell, more power to you. If I wasn’t sweating, I wasn’t working hard enough. If I wasn’t lifting as much as he was, I was slacking. If I said “excuse me” to the large muscle-head man in my way, I was being too much of a “girl.” I felt judged not only by the other gym goers, but by the staff as well.
One of the things that bothered me most about all the things I tried, whether it was a pill or the gym, was that they seemed focused on turning me into something I wasn’t. The message was always, “If you want to look like this trainer/instructor/woman on the diet-pill container, you have to follow this exact regimen.” And I’d just think to myself, “I don’t want to look like her. I want to look like me, just healthy.”
It didn’t take me long to decide that if I didn’t want to burn the gym to the ground, it was time for me to find something else to do. That’s when I found barre3. I had heard about it, but I just assumed it was going to be a bunch of skinny people who were going to make me feel like a complete moron. THANK THE HEAVENS FOR HOW WRONG I WAS. My first class, I was completely drenched in sweat by the end of warm-ups. Throughout the entire hour, the instructor made sure I was doing what felt right for my body. After class, other women stopped to tell me how great I did. Some even shared their first barre3 class experience with me.
I walked out of the studio feeling stronger and happier than I could remember being in a long time.* I called my mom, my boyfriend, my best friend—anyone who would answer their phone—to tell them all about the most amazing workout I’d just had. I couldn’t wait to go back.*
Soon I was going to the studio practically every day and loving every minute of it. I still sweat like a 500-pound man and have to take a million breaks when we do Reverse Chair on the bar, but I always feel amazing when I walk out the door at the end of the 60 minutes. I’m sure when I’m actually doing barre3, it’s like one of those memes that are like: WHAT I THINK I LOOK LIKE DOING BARRE3 vs. WHAT I ACTUALLY LOOK LIKE DOING BARRE3, but that’s ok—I love it.
I’ve also cut way back on my snacking and started cooking barre3 recipes. Today, I’m 75 pounds lighter and in the best shape of my life.* But something even more transformative has happened. The more I heard instructors talk about “honoring your truth,” the more I started to examine my life—not just my physical self, but my whole self. Work, in particular, was an issue for me. I wasn’t feeling valued by my colleagues, and until now I had let this fester. But through my new lens, I saw that if I wanted to be valued, I needed to own my value. This started with realizing that I was very good at what I was doing and that what I had to say was important. It sounds like such a small thing, but it gave me the confidence I needed to offer my opinions and speak up in meetings—even to broach difficult conversations that I would have avoided like the plague before.* And just like honoring your truth in barre3 leads to amazing physical results, honoring my truth at work led to amazing career results.*
I’m thrilled to say that I now wake up early to go to a job I love—and that loves me back—and then I end the day with my closing breaths, feeling stronger and leaner than when I walked through the door at barre3 Des Peres.* I know for a fact that I wouldn’t have the outlook or the happiness I do now in my life if barre3 hadn’t given me the courage to listen to my gut and do what was best for me.*
But if I’m going to wax poetic about honoring my truth, I also have to tell you that I still struggle some days. Sometimes life happens and I “slip” and stop going to the studio regularly. I tell myself I don’t have time, or it’s been a long day and I just need to go home—and the longer I stay away the harder it is to motivate myself to go back. It’s so easy to fall into that negative spiral. But when I walk through the door—after a day or a week, however long it has been since my last class—it’s always like coming home. (My motto: Seven days without barre3 makes one WEAK…haha).*
And the Oreos? Yeah, they still tempt me—especially the white-chocolate-covered ones that hit shelves during the holidays. But rather than wholesale deprive myself of them, I’ll let myself have one—whereas before I would have eaten an entire sleeve of them. Having gone through so many ridiculous extreme diets, it’s important to me that I be realistic. If I tell myself I can’t ever have pizza or french fries, I’m going to fail. But by starting with small changes, I’ve made big changes. The other day I had a sip of my boyfriend’s soda and I thought the syrup was messed up. It was actually normal, it’s just that I’m so used to eating healthy foods now that it tasted awful to me.*
So where do I go from here? Nowhere—and I mean that in the best possible sense. Unlike every quick-fix diet or 30-day-workout I suffered through, barre3 is a permanent part of my life.* It’s not about depriving myself to reach a goal and then quitting when I “succeed.” It’s about living a healthy, conscious life every day. I don’t think of it as an exercise program, I think of it as a lifestyle—one that helped me shed 75 pounds, yes, but also one that taught me to treat myself as kindly as I treat others.* I can’t imagine a more valuable lesson.*
Inspired by Jess’ story? Join barre3 Online or find a studio near you to get started on your own barre3 journey to whole-body health.
*results may vary
