I still remember standing in the back corner of a yoga studio, tugging at my baggy t-shirt, hoping no one would notice me. The instructor called for boat pose (navasana), and I watched as everyone around me lifted into this seemingly effortless hold. Meanwhile, I could barely keep my legs up for two seconds, let alone thirty. Despite years of crunches, my core was WEAK, and I STRUGGLED. 

“WTF am I doing here?” I thought as I sweat and struggled and eventually just lay down in savasana for the rest of class. 

I was convinced everyone was watching me. Judging me. Wondering what I was doing there. Of course, the fat, lazy girl was just napping in the corner while they all flowed through to “perfect” bodies. 

If you’ve ever felt intimidated walking into a gym, stepping onto a fitness class floor, or attempting your first strength training session, I want you to know something: You’re not alone. And more importantly, that feeling doesn’t have to keep you from experiencing the joy of movement.

THE TRUTH ABOUT BEING WATCHED (SPOILER: YOU’RE NOT)

Here’s what I’ve learned after years of taking/teaching fitness classes and training clients one-on-one: Everyone is worried about how they look and what they’re doing.

That person benching twice your weight? They’re focused on their form, counting reps, and probably replaying their morning in their head. The yogi in the front row? She’s concentrating on her breath and whether she remembered to turn off the stove at home. The cyclist next to you? They’re just trying not to fall off the bike and maybe stressing about a hot spot on the back of their heels.

People are self-centered when working out. And that’s good news for you. 

And if someone isn’t worried about themselves? It’s because they’re so dialed into their workout that they’re not observing you either.

This isn’t just my observation; it’s backed by psychology. The “spotlight effect” is a well-documented phenomenon in which we overestimate how much others notice us. We think we’re under a spotlight when in reality, everyone else is starring in their own mental movie.

The bottom line: No one is watching you fail. They’re too busy managing their own experience.

EVERYONE WAS A BEGINNER ONCE (YES, EVEN THEM)

That instructor who makes every movement look graceful and controlled? She started somewhere, too. The guy deadlifting 300 pounds? He once struggled with the empty bar. The person flowing through sun salutations like water? They also once fell out of tree pose. Probably last week.

Everyone was a beginner once. Seriously.

Showing up is the hardest part. Once you’re there, your only job is to meet yourself where you’re at; not where you think you should be, not where Instagram tells you to be, but exactly where your body is today.

Some days that’s 110% effort. Some days it’s 15%. Both are valid. Both are worthy. Both deserve celebration.

Learning Looks Messy (And That’s the Point)

Here’s something else they don’t tell you: doing it wrong is how you learn.

I learned half my yoga practice by watching others in group classes. There were plenty of moves in yoga and barre that I had no idea how to execute until I kept my eyes open and observed. I copied. I adjusted. I tried again. 

Don’t get it twisted, when I was observing and copying from others, I was NOT judging them. They were just another teacher in the room. 

Sometimes we are more comfortable learning in a 1:1 setting to avoid feeling self-conscious. But money is real, and training can be expensive when you are buying someone’s undivided attention. If you can’t afford one-on-one attention right now, group settings can actually be incredible learning environments. You get to see different bodies move in different ways. You pick up cues from watching someone else receive a correction. You realize that everyone is figuring it out as they go.

This is how we learn literally everything else in life; why should fitness be different?

IT IS NEVER EMBARRASSING TO ASK FOR HELP

Let me tell you something from the instructor side of the equation: good teachers want to help you.

When a client asks me a question—whether it’s about form, modifications, or whether they should push through discomfort—I don’t think less of them. I think more of them. SERIOUSLY. It’s a sign of trust. It tells me they believe I can help. It shows me they’re taking their body seriously.

Especially if you’re worried about injury, you owe it to your body to ask and be helped.

Your safety matters more than looking like you know what you’re doing. Your long-term health matters more than avoiding a thirty-second conversation. And honestly? Instructors LOVE when people ask questions because it means we’re actually connecting with you, not just talking at you. Or shouting into the void, as we sometimes call it. 

If a teacher makes you feel small for asking, that’s a them problem, not a you problem. Find someone else. There are instructors out there who will meet you with patience, encouragement, and genuine care.

I promise: asking for help is not a weakness. It’s wisdom.

THIS ISN’T GYM CLASS (AND YOU’RE NOT BEING GRADED)

Remember middle school PE? The rankings, the comparisons, the humiliation of being picked last for dodgeball? The fitness tests and mile runs? Yeah. I have asthma. Gym class gave me so much anxiety; it’s no wonder I spent 80% of my life overweight.

This is not that.

You are an adult who made a choice to invest in your body. You paid the same price as everyone else in that room. You have exactly as much right to be there as the person who’s been coming for five years.

You are not being graded. There is no performance review. No one is ranking you. No one is going to call your name over the intercom and tell you to sit out. If a teacher calls you out, it should only be to encourage you, help you, or cheer you on. Unless you specifically sought out the “drill sergeant” style of trainer, then maybe you want that.

You get to decide what success looks like for you on any given day:

• Maybe today, success is just showing up.
• Maybe it’s trying one new movement.
• Maybe it’s asking for a modification.
• Maybe it’s staying for the full class when you wanted to leave early.
• Maybe it’s letting yourself rest when your body needs it.
• Maybe it’s promising yourself 3 reps with a heavier weight.

Focus on the joy of getting to move your body. Not obligation. Not punishment. Not earning your meals or “fixing” yourself. It matters what our bodies can do, not what they look like.

Joy. Permission. Presence.

You deserve all three.

MY STORY: FINDING MY SPACE (AND PERMISSION TO TAKE UP ROOM)

As I said, I was the girl in baggy clothes at the back of the yoga studio. Overweight. SUPER self-conscious. Struggling to hold navasana for two seconds while everyone else seemed to float. The balance that made Warrior Three feel like an eternity. The person who groaned loudly when core work was announced. 

But I stayed. I watched. I listened. I asked questions.

I found teachers I felt safe with, instructors who didn’t make me feel like my body was a problem to solve, but rather a vehicle for experiencing life. I tried different classes and teachers until I found my comfort zone. 

And here’s the thing: not everything/everyone was for me, and that was okay.

There was one gym that made me feel unwelcome more than once. The vibe was off. The culture didn’t align. The clients and staff were on what I viewed as an “elite” level that I didn’t feel could be modified. I felt like I was constantly being judged or dismissed. So I left. I decided it wasn’t for me. And that’s okay. They are good people. They just aren’t my people. 

Not every space will be your space. And you don’t owe anyone your loyalty if a place makes you feel small. It might take you a minute to find a new space, but don’t stop looking or trying. 

My advice: Give a place at least 2-3 chances. Everyone has a bad day, instructors included. We are human. A rough class or an off interaction doesn’t always mean it’s not the right fit. But if it happens a few times? Trust your gut and try something else. You don’t owe anyone anything.

Maybe your space is a traditional gym with rows of equipment and personal trainers where you can get lost in the noise. Maybe it’s a boutique studio with dim lights and curated playlists for a more inclusive touch. Maybe it’s a boot camp in the park where you get your tough love. Maybe it’s a group of Saturday hikers or Thursday night cyclists. Maybe it’s free fitness at the community center. 

But when you find the space and the people that click for you? That’s when you get to fully bloom into the amazing body you already have. That’s when movement stops being a chore and starts being a gift.

PRACTICAL STEPS TO GET STARTED (WITHOUT THE FEAR)