Pilates Haus

I’ve been seeing the phrase “root cause” pop all over my algorithm and in many chronic illness groups I’m in. The more I see it, the more it makes me pause.

I understand why people are drawn to it. Chronic illness patients are often dismissed, unheard, under supported, and exhausted from trying to navigate systems that don’t always know what to do with bodies that don’t fit neatly into a box.

Wanting providers who look at the whole picture makes sense.

“Root cause” has become a powerful marketing term, especially in wellness spaces built around the desperation many chronically ill people feel for relief.

I worry about the way this messaging can quietly imply that if we just found the right protocol, eliminated the right toxin, regulated our nervous systems enough, or tried hard enough, we could finally become well.

I also worry about the expensive tests, supplements and protocols that will promised to people suffering as the answer they have been waiting for.

Some things absolutely can improve.
Some things have clear treatments.
Some things require lifelong management and symptom relief.

Not everything has one clean root.
And not every root has a cure.

I’m not anti alternative treatments. I am cautious.

I believe we deserve full toolboxes.
Medication and meditation.
Supportive practices and medical treatment.
Symptom relief without shame, even when we are curing a “root”.

We deserve care that helps people feel supported as they are.

Full article linked in bio.

Why an hEDS diagnosis matters, even though there is no cure.

I’ve seen this before, why hunt down a diagnosis if you can’t cure it? No cure doesn’t equal no care.

Diagnosis with or any other diagnosis without a cure matters for so many reasons.

Here are my top 5.

1. Diagnosis lets a person become a patient.
They can have the same understanding, care and options as someone with more recognizable disorder. They can (at least a little) step into the role of being cared for and out of the role of researcher.

2. Diagnosis informs care plans
The goal isn’t always a cure, it’s a well informed care plan to reduce suffering.

This can mean preventative screenings, safer care in emergencies and surgeries, access to accommodations and specialists etc.

You go from looking like an unlucky person who seems to have issues with every bodily system, to someone following a recognizable pattern of your diagnosis.

3. Knowledge is power

Less random shots in the dark and more targeted approaches.

Whether medication, mobility aides, lifestyle changes or physical therapy: all options can be targeted to what is most likely to help improve your outcomes when you and your doctors know what to look for and what they are dealing with.

4. Acceptance
Allowing someone the information needed to move the stages of grief is a great kindness. It is much harder to do that, to know what the reality is we are accepting, without understanding the diagnosis.

*this does not mean accepting sub par care, accepting unnecessary suffering or giving up.

5. Community
When we find others who have walked a similar path, however horrible it may be, we realize we are not alone. It was never just us. No one here was being dramatic or weak or making things up.

We can also share in support. I’ve found communities sharing provider information, local resources and support and even offering up mobility aids.

Finding people that understand you without having to explain anything, can be immensely healing in of itself.

Cure or no cure…

We all deserve good care, understanding, support and belonging.

Cue like a coach.

If you’ve ever had a moment as a Pilates instructor (or movement instructor) like mine, of feeling like you were taught the tools to instruct but not to coach, welcome.

I will never forget looking around the studio I had built and realizing I boxed myself into a job and a way of teaching that was very incongruent with who I am and how I actually wanted to show up.

I unknowingly began my journey into coaching when I started dissecting and rebuilding my cueing approach.

Learning how to show up authentically has carried me through seasons I am very confident I would have otherwise burned out in. It’s given me confidence in being able to offer the experience I craved to share with others. Ultimately, it led to me enrolling in a coaching program to gain more tools. (More on that coming soon!)

I’m sharing my journey of deconstructing my Pilates education, learning coaching frameworks, and how I put it all together as a movement coach that is chronic illness informed.

This substack article shares my top 10 suggestions for beginning to shift your cues from an instructor framework to coaching framework. (Link in bio 💕)

You’re not the first person to cry during a Pilates session, and you won’t be the last.

That’s either the best or the worst sales pitch for sessions with me 🤣

Whether I’m coaching someone through life changes, business choices, or movement, one theme constantly shows up. Presence is powerful.

Simply witnessing each other as we struggle, persevere, learn, grow and evolve is hugely impactful. And it’s not uncommon that emotions come up when we are met with presence… yes, even during Pilates.

If you’ve found yourself tearing up during a single thigh stretch, or have some emotions bubble up during a car cow, you’re not alone. There’s a real beauty in getting quiet and present, in feeling supported, and working through your body, mind and soul together.

Keep moving and breathing and showing up and crying 💕 and if this resonates with you, subscribe to my substack!