Since my husband left for LA last week to set up our lives, I knew that in addition to all the planning, packing, and saying goodbye to friends, I needed to implement a workout schedule.  Not to lose weight as much as to pay attention to my needs while I’m running around like a chicken with her head cut trying to move our family #FromBostonToLA.

Enter Pure Barre in Boston.  Pure Barre is a 55 minute workout that uses a ballet barre, yoga, pilates, and small isometric movements to help shape and tone a woman’s body (men can go too, but from several blogs of boyfriends of barre enthusiasts, most would rather groom their facial hair by plucking one hair at a time than go back to barre).

Pure Barre is so much fun. It knew it would intense, but its only fifty-five minutes, so I bought the new client special, signed up for two weeks worth of classes and jumped right in.  Come closer, friend because I have a confession for you:  I’m already addicted!  I’m looking up LA studios, thinking about working on my cover letter to over to send with my resume begging, “please, oh please hire me to work the front desk, clean the studio, ANYTHING because I need some barre in my life.” It like all my ballet training came rushing back to me and I remembered how at home in my body I felt when I trained for a show.

Just yesterday, Tyson, who babysits for me to go to class,  said, “Mom, you’re always wanting to go to the barre!”  To which I said, “Dude, that’s funny but don’t you ever yell that out in public- people won’t know you mean barre like ballet barre and not bar like…well…you know.”  and he laughed manically and said he lives to embarrass me.  *Sigh* That’s my boy.

Well, mischievous sons aside, today I had an “aha” moment at Pure Barre.

barre-workout-london

When I walked into the studio I set up next to an older woman who I could tell was or used to be a dance teacher, the way she moved, her carriage, the confidence in gait, her gentle fingers, and sharp eyes- I knew she was a dance teacher.  She looked like every dance teacher I’d ever had.

Side by side at the barre, we stretched and sweated and experienced the infamous muscles “shake” all pure barre clients know too well and when class was finally over she walked over to me and said, with a sweet conviction,

“You used to dance, didn’t you?”

Shocked and a little flattered, I stammered, “Yes…I majored in dance in college many years ago.’

Her eyes twinkled, “I could tell in the way you moved, that you dance.  Don’t give up (on Pure Barre) it gets easier.”

And my chest warmed as I was reminded of truest thing I know about myself:  that I’m stronger then I think I am and I will always be the girl who dances–regardless of my pants size. Dancing is my native tongue, it’s where the world makes sense and joy overcomes my anxiety.  This truth was in me and another woman called it out.

And I wonder how often we see the truth in other women? How we can see that music is her love language, hospitality her medium, organization her superpower, or a myriad of ways the women we love are uniquely gifted and we don’t walk over to tell her, “I can see it in you; the way you move through this life leaving beauty in your wake tells me so.  Don’t give up, it gets easier.”

Because it’s not easy having truth live deep inside in a world that bombards you with lies that your truth isn’t good enough.  That says with derision, “sure you can do a lovely pirouette, but really, why can’t you be assertive or ambitious, or ambidextrous? What? No? Then you have nothing to offer”.

It seems like we are never enough. And so, it’s our jobs to perceive when our sisters are listening to lies, look for their truths, and call it out.

Will you look for truth with me today? When you see it in another woman, call it out and what what happens! Her shoulders will straighten, her face will color, at first with embarrassment then acknowledgement, then her eyes will soften- they may even well up with hopeful tears, and then her resolve will shift into place as truth prepares her for the path she’s called on.

Seeking Truths To Tell,

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