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Learning to Listen to My Body: My Journey from Burnout to Pilates

Writer: community6824
community6824
11 minutes ago
6 min read

Laura, our Pilates teacher, shares her personal journey from burnout and an ADHD diagnosis to discovering the transformative benefits of Pilates. She reflects on how learning to listen to her body helped her rethink her relationship with stress, embrace a new career and develop a more compassionate approach to movement and wellbeing.

By Laura Suarez Garcia


For years, I believed resilience meant pushing through, no matter how exhausted I felt. It took several experiences of burnout, an ADHD diagnosis and a deeper connection with my body to realise that recovery wasn't simply about resting. It was about learning to listen to myself and making changes to the way I lived.



The Cost of Always Pushing Through


I've always been driven to do well. From school through university and into my career as an architect, I was curious, ambitious and determined to succeed.


But beneath that determination, I struggled with anxiety from a young age. I found it difficult to manage my emotions, quiet negative thoughts and understand why everyday tasks sometimes took me longer than they seemed to take others.


When I moved to London to pursue architecture, I loved the city's energy and opportunities. Yet the profession's demanding deadlines and long hours gradually took their toll.


My body was constantly tense. I experienced neck and shoulder pain, poor sleep, teeth grinding and shallow breathing. I even remember a boyfriend noticing that I held my hands in tight fists while walking.


Looking back, I was living in survival mode. From the outside, I appeared organised and capable, but maintaining that appearance came at a cost.



Understanding Myself Through an ADHD Diagnosis


During the Covid pandemic, my anxiety intensified as familiar routines disappeared. Without cycling to work or attending gym classes, I began to recognise how much movement had been helping me cope.


Around that time, a friend suggested I might have ADHD. Initially, I dismissed the idea because I could concentrate intensely on things that interested me. But as I learned more about how ADHD can present in women, particularly difficulties with time management, attention and switching between tasks, so much of my experience began to make sense.


Receiving my diagnosis helped me understand why conventional productivity advice had rarely worked for me. Getting up earlier, becoming more disciplined or simply trying harder often left me even more exhausted.


The diagnosis didn't solve everything, but it helped me replace self-criticism with compassion and begin exploring strategies that worked with my needs.



When My Body Finally Said Enough


For years, I relied on exercise to manage stress and concentration, sometimes returning to the office after a lunchtime gym class and working late into the evening.


I changed jobs several times, hoping a different workplace would help. But the same patterns followed me, and my physical symptoms worsened.


One morning, I woke up with such severe neck pain that I couldn't get out of bed. I decided to leave my job and take three months off.


During that break, my breathing improved, my body relaxed and I began enjoying life again. Yet I felt uncertain about my future and eventually returned to architecture.


Almost immediately, my symptoms returned, this time accompanied by panic attacks. I sought counselling and medication, both of which helped me manage my anxiety and put what I was learning into practice.


But I was beginning to understand that I couldn't continue living in the same way and expect to feel differently.



Discovering Pilates


Around the time of my severe neck pain, my sister, a physiotherapist and Pilates teacher, suggested I try Pilates.


Initially, I was simply looking for physical relief. My neck and shoulders were weak, my ribcage felt stiff, and even lifting my head during a basic exercise was uncomfortable.


There was no sudden transformation. Through regular classes, private sessions and gentle repetition, I gradually developed strength, mobility and awareness.


Then, one day, I realised I couldn't remember the last time I'd experienced neck pain.


The improvement had happened so gradually that I'd barely noticed it.


That experience changed how I understood progress. It wasn't necessarily about performing more challenging exercises. Sometimes, progress meant moving without discomfort, feeling stronger or realising that something which once limited you no longer affected your everyday life.


Consistency mattered, but not through forcing myself to do more. I was learning to work with my body rather than against it.



Learning to Breathe and Listen


Breathing became another important part of my Pilates journey.


Although I understood the theory of three-dimensional breathing, I struggled to feel my ribcage expand, particularly towards my back.


After practising in different positions and exploring different movements, I finally experienced that expansion for myself. It was a small but meaningful breakthrough.


It taught me that understanding an instruction and physically experiencing it are two very different things.


Today, this shapes how I teach. I encourage clients to explore movement and breathing at their own pace, adapting exercises when necessary rather than expecting everyone to respond in the same way.


Pilates also offered something I hadn't anticipated: a way to quiet my mind.


For an hour, I could focus on my breathing, movement and physical sensations instead of the constant stream of thoughts in my head.


I began recognising the signals I'd ignored for years: tension, tiredness and the need to slow down.


Pilates wasn't a cure for anxiety or ADHD, and I continued to need other forms of support. But it helped me reconnect with my body and become more aware of what I needed.



Recovery Meant Changing My Life


For a long time, I believed that enough rest would allow me to return to normal. But every time I returned to the same working patterns, my symptoms resurfaced.


I began to realise that recovery required more than managing exhaustion. I needed to question why I constantly pushed myself, struggled to recognise my limits and prioritised expectations over my wellbeing.


As my interest in Pilates grew, I trained as a teacher, initially hoping to combine teaching with architecture.


I reduced my architecture work to four days a week, but the workload still felt overwhelming. With the help of ADHD coaching, I gradually accepted that I might need a different direction.


At the end of 2022, I left architecture to focus on Pilates alongside freelance work.


It wasn't an easy decision, but it was the first time I was choosing a career based not only on what I could achieve, but also on the kind of life I wanted to live.


I wanted meaningful work, space to keep learning and the opportunity to help others develop a healthier relationship with their bodies.


Recovery, I realised, wasn't about becoming better at tolerating stress. It was about recognising when something wasn't working and giving myself permission to make different choices.



The Changing Female Body


Becoming a mother in 2024 brought another dimension to my understanding of the body.


Pregnancy, birth and breastfeeding introduced physical and emotional changes I couldn't have fully understood through training alone. I noticed changes in my ADHD symptoms and learned to adapt familiar movements as my body changed.


These experiences deepened my understanding of clients navigating hypermobility and other physical challenges.


Now, as I enter perimenopause, I'm continuing to learn how hormonal transitions can influence our energy, sleep, physical comfort and mental wellbeing.


Our bodies and needs change throughout life, and the strategies that once worked for us may need to evolve.


This reinforces a principle central to my teaching: we need to understand the person in front of us, not simply the body performing an exercise.


Everyone brings different experiences, abilities and needs to a Pilates session. Creating space for those differences is essential.



Why I Teach Pilates Today


My journey hasn't given me all the answers. I still have to recognise when I'm taking on too much and remind myself that my worth isn't measured by productivity.


But I now have a deeper understanding of myself and tools that help me respond to life's challenges.


As a Pilates teacher, I want clients to leave my sessions feeling more connected to their bodies, grounded, energised and confident in what they can do.


I also want people to know that they don't have to get everything right immediately. I understand the frustration of struggling with a seemingly simple movement or wondering whether you're improving at all.


My experiences have taught me the importance of patience, repetition and finding an approach that works for each individual.


Pilates is not a substitute for medical care, counselling or medication when these are needed. For me, it has been one valuable part of a wider journey towards understanding and caring for myself.


I still love learning and challenging myself. The difference is that I'm learning to do so without sacrificing my wellbeing.


If there's one thing I'd like to share, it's this: you don't have to wait until your body forces you to stop before you start listening to it.


You don't have to earn rest through exhaustion, and you don't have to be constantly productive to deserve care.


Sometimes, the most meaningful progress isn't about pushing further. It's about finding your way back to yourself.

 
 
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