In late 2020, my therapist put words to the discontent simmering in my head: I had body dysmorphia.

So many things clicked into place then. It started to make sense why my body often felt like a prison I was trapped inside of, why I couldn’t stand to look at my reflection in the mirror, why I often bought the wrong size clothes (both too big and too small) because I had no idea what size I actually was. From that moment on, I was determined to fix it. I was determined to love my body the way it deserved to be loved.

That same year also began a years-long fight for my health. I ended up in the ER three times in 2020 and 2021, my stomach burning, no answers in sight. My hair was thinning, and I was gaining more weight than ever.

So, though I was relieved to know I could work towards healing my body dysmorphia, it’s not something that can just be fixed after a few sessions. You have to dive deeper into the childhood traumas, look back into the hardest moments of your life, and untangle them like knots. It didn’t help that I felt uglier than I ever had and was in a constant state of despair. Michael and I were struggling to get someone to believe that something was genuinely wrong with me.

My GP at the time did nothing to help me, saying everything seemed fine. I got lucky when he retired a few months later, and the doctor who replaced him actually cared. By the end of 2022, I had a second therapist whose main focus was body issues, started going to a hair clinic, got multiple diagnoses from my GP, and medication. As 2023 began, I had a plan.

The trouble with workouts

As my medication and hair growth started to slowly work, I started my health journey in earnest. The weight started to slowly come off, and I continued to do the work in therapy to help me love my body at any size. I knew that if I was losing weight, I couldn’t do it the way I’d done it before. This wasn’t a weight loss journey. This was about my health, about my well-being, about loving my body at every stage.

Eating healthier was the easy part. However, one thing I couldn’t really figure out was how to work out.

I always thought of exercise as something I had to do: a necessity, an annoyance, a punishment.

Sure, I always felt better after I went to the gym, but I never really enjoyed it. My new therapist spent many sessions trying to help me get past this hurdle.

My friends wanted me to join their group workout classes, but fear held me back. I imagined that everyone in Switzerland who attends group classes looks like a fitness model, and I worried they would laugh me out of any class I joined. People in Switzerland stay very fit and often remain active their entire lives, and I didn’t want them to see me as the fat, dumb American who couldn’t do a plank.

Those were the cruel thoughts that used to swirl in my head back then.

In the middle of 2024, Michael said he would join a Lucky Punch class (a conditional strength-and-boxing class set to loud pop music), and we signed up. The night before our booking, though, I had a panic attack. I can’t go, I thought, everyone will point and laugh. I couldn’t do it. And so we cancelled.

I felt so ashamed and took to doing all the work I could in therapy to figure out how I could make it better.

Turns out, all I needed was a new friend.

Saskia’s bachelorette party

In late 2024, I went to dinner with one of my best friends, Saskia, and her friend, Tanja.

I’d met Tanja before at Saskia’s birthday parties, and we always got along. So we went to dinner just the three of us.

Tanja and I bonded over body issues and health. She is a yoga and pilates instructor in her spare time, so she said I could join her classes anytime. I siezed up then, the similar fear I felt when anyone tried to get me to join a fitness class creeping up inside my chest, and I told her I was not ready.

She nodded and said she understood, said that her classes would be there when I was ready. Internally, I laughed, thinking that there was no universe where I could ever be.

I’d opened up to Tanja about my struggles with body dysmorphia, and so she did not give up on me.

She would remind me that a class was happening, and though my brain desperately wanted to join, the fear was too much to overcome. Instead of saying “Oh, I’m busy that day!” I just told her the truth: I was scared.

By the time we had this conversation, it was early last year (2025), and I had already made so many strides with my mental and physical health. Tanja, being the patient and kind person she is, offered me a free virtual 1:1 Pilates class where she could teach me the basics, and I could try it out. No judgement. In the comfort of my own home.

Tired of being so damn afraid, I said yes.

To my surprise, I fell in love with it.

Not me making the official studio Instagram

The first three classes I took were virtual and incredibly hard. I couldn’t do a plank; I was sweaty and out of breath. But damn it, I loved the way I felt during and after.

I decided it was time to go to my first group exercise class in Switzerland. Tanja was starting a new pilates course at a studio on Saturdays. It had been 5 years since my first body dysmorphia and 3 years since I started my health journey. I was 32 kilos (70 pounds) down, and I felt ready.

I’ve learned that sometimes, you have to do it scared.

I loved that first class so much. And I’ve loved every single class I’ve attended since then.

I’ve been going to Pilates almost every week for a year.

I bring my own mat and it’s bright pink #onbrand

Here’s what Pilates has taught me:

• To think of my body in terms of function over form. My legs are long, and my core keeps me stable. My muscles work together to keep me upright and alive
• I am stronger than I think. I can do a plank now and a partial side plank (still working on doing a full one).
• Lunges aren’t as scary as they used to be.
• Even the fittest people struggle during Pilates. The point of Pilates is that it works on tiny muscles you forget you even have, and it’s always a relief to see other people dying as much as I am during a particularly difficult movement.
• Fitness is for everyone. Everyone, regardless of body size or fitness level, deserves to feel strong. There’s no limit to what you can and can’t do.
• It’s okay to slow down or modify. It’s not a competition, and modifications just get you one step closer to doing it next time.
• No one actually cares what you look like in a Pilates class, and if they do, that’s their own problem. I don’t even have time to look at what someone else looks like during a class cause I’m too busy concentrating on myself.
• I can do anything. No, really, I can do ANYTHING.

Pilates has helped heal my body dysmorphia in a way I don’t think I can put into words. I feel so strong when I’m standing on the mat, and it makes me crave the adrenaline even more. For the first time in my life, I get sad when I can’t work out. Michael and I are going on vacation in September, and I’m looking for Pilates studios we can visit when we get there.

If you had told me five years ago that I’d want to exercise on vacation, I would have laughed in your face.

Pilates has also given me the confidence to join other group classes. 2 years after I had a panic attack and cancelled my Lucky Punch class, Michael and I were finally able to go. And we’ve been back three times since.

I’m the one inviting friends to classes now.

I want to give a big shout-out to Tanja for being the perfect embodiment of what a fitness instructor (and friend) should be: patient and kind. Without her understanding and perseverance, I never would have discovered something I love so much. I am eternally grateful for her.

I am also forever grateful for Michael, my husband and best friend, who has always encouraged me to find joy, who goes swimming with me, and who goes to silly boxing classes when I’m scared. He drives me to Pilates every Saturday and picks me up afterward. I am so lucky to have him.

Though my relationship with my body is still a work in progress, it is so much better than it used to be.

I have my own determination and Pilates to thank for that, I think.

If you’re looking for a sign to go to an exercise class, even if you’re scared, even if you don’t feel like you’d fit in, this is it. You can do it, even if you’re afraid.

I promise you won’t regret it.

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