Rebuilding Trust in your back

Leslie Guerin • January 12, 2026

 My Story, and Why This Work Matters

In May of 2020, I woke up one morning and couldn’t move.

Not the kind of “ugh, my back feels stiff” can’t move.
The kind where your body simply says
no, and you don’t yet understand why.

I tried to roll over in bed and nothing happened. I remember lying there thinking, This is strange. I was a movement teacher. I exercised for a living. I knew bodies. And yet, my body had decided it was done cooperating.

That moment marked the beginning of a long, humbling, frustrating, and ultimately clarifying chapter of my life.

Six Months of Trying to Outsmart My Body

Over the next six months, I did what a lot of capable, driven people do when something goes wrong: I tried to manage it instead of listening to it.

I changed my diet.
I swapped pillows.
I adjusted how I slept.
I was deeply committed to Biofreeze.
I saw a chiropractor.
I saw a massage therapist.

I stood all the time because sitting felt unbearable. And every time I stood up from a chair, it felt like I was being tasered through my hip.

Still, I kept teaching.

This was 2020, so everything had moved to Zoom. I taught my classes. I demonstrated most of the exercises. I told myself that as long as I could keep moving, I was okay. I told myself that stopping would mean losing everything I had built.

The truth?
I was terrified.

Terrified of losing my job.
Terrified of not being able to teach.
Terrified that if I stopped moving, I’d never start again.

So I ignored the signals.

When Ignoring Stops Working

Eventually, I could barely sit at all. Standing was my default. And then one night, the pain crossed a line.

I couldn’t roll over in bed without crying.

That was the moment I knew: this wasn’t something I could muscle through anymore.

I finally scheduled an MRI.

The results showed two herniated discs:

  • One at L5–S1
  • One at L1–L2

The doctors believed the upper herniation was older. All of my symptoms were coming from the lower one.

I went through two cycles of prednisone. And for the first time, I did something that felt completely against my identity:

I stopped.

(Okay—I still walked. I’m a mover after all.)

But I stopped trying to fix myself through effort alone.

What Fear Took From Me—and What It Taught Me

Here’s the part that matters most, and the part I wish I’d understood sooner:

A lot of what prolonged my recovery wasn’t the injury itself.
It was my fear.

Fear of losing my career.
Fear of starting over.
Fear of going back to basics.

I teach the mind–body connection every day. And yet, in my own body, I couldn’t access it. I wasn’t listening. I was negotiating. I was overriding.

My body wasn’t telling me I was broken.

It was telling me:
It’s okay. You just need to start again—differently.

It took over a year before I would take anyone else’s class. I had to relearn how to watch movement before doing it. I had to understand what my body needed to see, feel, and trust again.

Today, I have a very clear sense of what I can do, what I shouldn’t do, and what I need more time with. That clarity didn’t come from pushing harder—it came from paying attention.

The Professional Perspective I Didn’t Trust (But Should Have)

For several years, I worked at a physical therapy office in Portsmouth that specializes in back pain recovery.

At the time, I assumed that because I wasn’t a physical therapist, I didn’t know that much.

That assumption turned out to be wrong.

I learned a great deal there—but I also realized how much I already understood through Pilates, movement education, and lived experience.

Here’s what I know to be true now:

Once someone is cleared to move, thoughtful movement guidance matters deeply.

People don’t just need exercises.
They need reassurance.
They need options.
They need to rebuild trust in their own decision-making.

That’s where I do my best work.

Why I Created Rebuild Trust in Your Back

This is exactly why I created Rebuild Trust in Your Back.

This series is for people who:

  • Have experienced back pain
  • Have been told they’re allowed to move again
  • But feel scared, hesitant, or unsure where to begin

It’s for the people who are afraid to join a group class.
The people who worry they’ll do something wrong.
The people who don’t want to be “fixed,” but don’t want to stay stuck either.

This work isn’t about pushing.
It’s about
listening.
It’s about rebuilding confidence, layer by layer.

I wish I had given myself this kind of space sooner.

An Invitation

If you see yourself in any part of this story, I invite you to join me.

This upcoming session of Rebuild Trust in Your Back is limited to 12 people, intentionally. I want to know who I’m working with. I want to make sure our goals align. And I want to create an environment where you feel supported—not rushed.

If you’re interested, message me soon.
We’ll talk, make sure this is the right fit, and take the next step together.

You’re not broken.
You never were.
Sometimes, you just need permission—and guidance—to begin again.


By Leslie Guerin February 2, 2026
Stability Is Not Stillness — It’s Organized Effort “Hold still.” If you’ve ever taken one of my classes, you’ve heard me say it. And if you’ve ever felt it, you know it isn’t about freezing. Most of the time when a teacher says “hold still,” it’s because something else is happening. Maybe bouncing, gripping, bracing, or compensating of some kind. Something is moving that shouldn’t be. But “hold still” does not mean “be still.” Those two cues might sound similar, but in Pilates they mean very different things. Be Still vs Hold Still Be still is a pause. It’s a full stop. It’s often used so you can feel one specific thing: “Be still… feel your ribs.” “Be still… notice your pelvis.” “Be still… now breathe.” It’s about attention. Hold still is something else entirely. Hold still means: Stay organized Stay lifted Stay connected Stay breathing You are not passive. You are not collapsed. You are actively maintaining shape while something else moves. It is one of the most advanced skills in Pilates. Why Teachers Say “Hold Still” We say it when we see: The pelvis shifting The ribs popping The shoulders helping Momentum sneaking in The body is trying to get the job done by recruiting the wrong helpers. So “hold still” is really a request for clean movement : Let only the part that is supposed to move… move. Everything else must work just as hard, just not by changing position. Side-Lying Leg Lifts: The Perfect Example Let’s take one of the most deceptively simple exercises in mat Pilates: Side-lying leg lifts. On the surface, it looks like this: You lie on your side You lift the top leg You lower it But what is really happening is far more complex. This exercise is designed to balance one side of the body on the other . The top leg moves. The rest of the body holds still. Not rigid. Not collapsed. Not gripping. Holding. What “Hold Still” Actually Means Here While the top leg lifts and lowers: The bottom side of the body is working. The bottom rib cage is lifted off the mat, creating space The waist is long, not sagging The spine is stacked, not rolled back The top hand in front of the body is not there to lean on, it is there to quiet the rocking forward and backward. The pelvis stays level. No tipping. No hiking. No rolling. Everything that is not the leg is holding still... but nothing is relaxed. This Is Why Breathing Matters If you stop breathing, you are not holding still. You are bracing. Holding still means you can: Maintain the shape Keep the effort And still let the breath move That’s where the deep stabilizers do their job: The abdominals The muscles along the spine The lateral hip The inner thighs The breath becomes the test: Can you stay organized even while something else is moving? That’s real control. Why This Cue Changes Everything “Hold still” teaches the nervous system something incredibly important: You don’t create strength by moving more. You create strength by controlling what doesn’t move . That’s how: Hips become more stable Backs become more supported Movement becomes quieter and more powerful It’s also how injuries are prevented, especially in people who are flexible, mobile, or used to muscling through. So Next Time You Hear It… When I say “hold still,” I’m not asking you to freeze. I’m asking you to: Stay lifted Stay connected Stay breathing Stay honest Let the right thing move. Let everything else do its job. That’s Pilates.
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