Redefining Pilates: A Journey Toward Inclusivity

Photography @seanbergarapilates

I first walked into a Pilates studio with the sole intent of getting a workout. As a bodybuilder, I was used to pushing my limits, but I also knew I needed something more to improve my flexibility and overall movement. My body was strong but rigid—thoracically bound and kyphotic, curved forward from years of intense weightlifting. I had heard that Pilates could help, so I entered the studio eager to start.

But what greeted me was not what I expected. The instructor took one look at my physique and her eyes widened in disbelief. "The gym is down the block," she said, dismissing me before I could even explain why I was there. When I insisted that I wanted to start Pilates, she coldly replied, "This isn't for you. We don't work with bodybuilders. Our clients are lean dancers, not people like you."

It was clear that my muscular build intimidated her. She couldn’t see past my physique to recognize my potential as a student. This was 15-20 years ago when athletes weren’t typically involved in Pilates. The perception at that time was that Pilates was only for a certain body type—slender, flexible, and dancer-like. This was body shaming, plain and simple, and it stung. But instead of walking away, I became determined to change the narrative of who could practice Pilates.

Challenging Stereotypes

From what I have seen, the Pilates community has long held onto the belief that a male body in Pilates should resemble that of a dancer or a highly flexible mover. But what about the founder of Pilates himself, Joseph Pilates? His physique, especially in the early days, was nothing like a dancer’s. He had muscles, broad shoulders, and powerful legs. Yet, we seem to forget that. We have created an image in our minds of what a Pilates body should look like, and it’s often far removed from reality.

In the Pilates world, we frequently highlight celebrities like Jennifer Aniston or Gwen Stefani as the "ideal" Pilates bodies. And while we see NFL players and other athletes using Pilates for flexibility and core training, they don’t use our method to do a workout.

The Reformer, one of the key pieces of equipment in Pilates, is essentially a horizontal version of a cable machine. If we can use cable machines in countless ways in the gym, why can’t we do more with the Reformer? Why must we be confined to the same exercises and teachings that have been passed down for the last 100 years? It’s time to break free from these limitations and open up the practice to everyone, regardless of their body type.

A Call for Inclusivity

It’s not just about shaming larger bodies or those with muscular builds. The problem runs deeper. When someone walks into a Pilates studio and is told, "Sorry, this isn't for you," because they don't fit the traditional mould, we lose the opportunity to welcome a new community into the practice. It’s not just about aesthetics; it's about the mindset that certain bodies don’t belong.

I’ve experienced this exclusion firsthand. I’ve been told by instructors that they couldn’t modify their classes for me because it would slow down the group. I realized then that it wasn’t about my body—it was about the instructor’s inability or unwillingness to adapt. Instead of saying, "I wish I knew how to make this work for you," the default response was to exclude me.

But Pilates should be about working with the body in front of you, just as Joseph Pilates intended. He didn’t teach a one-size-fits-all method; he taught movement tailored to each individual. He worked with students with asthma, others recovering from surgery, and each time, he adapted his method to suit their needs. Over time, these students went on to teach their own versions of Pilates, shaped by their experiences. That’s why we have so many different interpretations of the method today. And none of them are wrong.

“It’s time to break free from these limitations and open up the practice to everyone, regardless of their body type.”
— Sean said

Creating an Inclusive Environment

In my classes, I strive to create an environment where everyone feels welcome, regardless of their shape, size, or physical ability. I teach my students to understand their bodies, their strengths, and their limitations. I never tell anyone they aren’t welcome because I believe Pilates is for everybody.

This is personal for me. When I first walked into a Pilates studio, everything was pink—glittery socks, neon pink letters, pink dumbbells. The subliminal messages were clear: this space wasn’t designed for someone like me. That’s why, in my own studio, I avoid those cues. There are no pictures of dancers' bodies on the walls, no color schemes that scream exclusivity. It’s not about me; it’s about creating a space where everyone feels they belong.

Inclusivity also extends to the language we use in the studio. When instructors say, "Great job, ladies," or "Good work, girls," they unintentionally alienate others. Words matter, and we need to ensure that our language is as inclusive as our teaching.

We must ask ourselves: are we truly being inclusive? Are we creating spaces where everyone feels welcome, or are we perpetuating a narrow vision of who belongs in Pilates? It’s time to challenge the status quo and open up Pilates to every body. After all, Joseph Pilates didn’t create this method to be exclusive. He created it to help people move, heal, and grow stronger, regardless of who they are or what they look like.

Sean Bergara began his Pilates Journey back in 2005 after suffering a serious skiing accident in 1991. In 2007, he moved to Palm Springs in California and opened Ecore Fitness. Sean received his Pilates certification from Polestar Pilates. Sean teaches regular weekly group and private classes, offers continued education and training worldwide and has an on-demand website.

 

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