I come from a long line of athletes: My grandfather coached baseball in the Bronx well into his 50s, my father can still catch passes, and my brother was eyed by talent scouts in junior high. Even my grandmother, who was in her 80s, walked a mile every day to stay agile. As a teenager, I played soccer, basketball, baseball, and ran track. I was tall, strong, and agile. I loved team spirit and wore my uniforms with pride, but even then, my focus was on losing weight, not the game itself. I believed acceptance meant getting slimmer through sports and training, something I internalized as a child.

I thought (wrongly) that I couldn’t rest or recover, driven by the desire to prove that my soft, round body could handle it.

In my twenties, I joined recreational leagues and played basketball and rugby for club teams. Although I struggled with plantar fasciitis and the occasional back injury, I persevered. I used ice, trained in the off-season, wore arch support splints, discovered spin classes and boutique gyms, and applied knee taping like my grandfather taught me to do for pain relief. I thought (wrongly) that I couldn’t rest or recover, driven by a desire to prove that my soft, round body could take it.

Despite my unwavering commitment to challenging workouts and careful dietary changes, I never achieved the aesthetic results I expected. While it felt good to stick to a routine of strength training and cardio classes, my body kept giving me signs that it wasn’t happy: I’d lift my swollen foot off a pedal or feel a pull in my trapezius muscles after lifting weights, which plagued me with injury concerns.

Would I accidentally injure myself? Would my right foot swell up after every cycling session? This fear accompanied every training session and raised doubts about the benefits of this intense routine. Despite my efforts, the stress remained. I remained unchanged, literally.

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Switching to “Soft Girl” workouts

My leg, foot, and already sensitive back began to protest, forcing me to rethink the classes, teachers, and community I cared about so much. To be clear, I loved them. However, I gradually realized that I was conforming to societal expectations instead of listening to my body’s needs.

With a round belly, a tendency toward joint pain, and a noticeable dip in my back that made lifting, squatting, and sit-ups difficult, I used to push through the pain, believing that more effort and sweat was the key to fitness nirvana. But as I lay on the couch with ice packs on my limbs, that approach didn’t seem to hold water.

I needed to become more mindful—both physically and emotionally. Lindsey Strobel, the creator of Fat Body Pilates and a fully trained, all-size Pilates student advocate, believes in the profound benefits of mindfulness and lower-intensity movement practice.

According to Strobel, our fast-paced lives often lead us to overlook our true selves and the signals our bodies are sending us – whether through constant high-intensity training just to “keep up” or through relentlessly scrutinizing our diet and appearance to meet ever-changing demands.

“It’s hard to take time to slow down, let our nervous system settle, and look within for cues when they’re bombarding us from the outside with such authority,” Strobel says. “But it’s the only way we can figure out how to live a life that’s aligned with our personal values ​​and ensures we’re making the most of our time. And hey, if we can do that in Pilates class while also moving our bodies in ways that actually feel good—that’s a double win.”

I ventured into a Pilates class after an orthopedic surgeon recommended it and pointed out misalignments in my left hip, knee and foot. Pilates Coven in the Lower East Side, a studio with the motto “come as you are,” marked a major departure from my previous hardcore workout community, where weight-loss goals were subtle and I often received sideways glances as the only larger-framed participant.

With Pilates, I found a way to move and stretch that relieved hip tension without the usual discomfort. A calf stretch, where you put your toes on the foot bar and drop your heels under, felt so good that I would buy a reformer just to do it every day.

Pilates Coven co-owner and founder Sabrina Castro notices that her clients experience a positive shift in their mindset during class. “They move away from perfectionism and the constant attempt to publicly prove something to others, whether it’s worth, strength, a certain look or a certain attitude that hardcore athletes show off,” she says. “It’s stressful and draining to mental, emotional and physical health.”

What Soft Girl Era Workouts Are

Welcome to my “soft girl era” where I have turned to gentler activities like Pilates, water aerobics, stretching and walks in nature.

About a year ago, I came across the term “Soft Girl Era” on TikTok—a move away from rush culture toward a more relaxed, stress-free vibe—and was totally hooked. I’ve always been someone who pushes myself and my body to the limit, so it just felt right to adopt that mindset, whether it was for light workouts or just living a more relaxed life.

“I notice in myself and in others around me who make the transition from high-impact to low-impact that they stop caring and stop trying to prove something,” says Castro. “They learn to be gentler and more relaxed with themselves.”

While I loved my cycling classes, the HIIT community, and powerlifting, I realized they weren’t giving my body the strength it needed, nor my mind the clarity it wanted—which isn’t to say they don’t have their benefits. Incorporating a few intense workouts every now and then helped keep my bones strong and ready to support my body.

But swapping kettlebells for Pilates reformers and spin bikes for quiet hikes in nature marked a significant, less-than-perfect shift, just as Castro predicted. Despite the calm appearance of low-impact workouts, I’ve found that they quietly insist on increased mindfulness. While I initially expected a mental shift, hoping to find my centering through better body awareness, it turned out to be a deep physical transformation as well.

Each targeted movement in Pilates awakens muscles I had overlooked, pushing me to prioritize form over speed. Neglected small muscles suddenly come alive, increasing my overall strength and stability. The idea that low-impact workouts lack intensity is a complete misconception.

“Exercises like Pilates and yoga challenge our muscles in a (different) way than, say, a HIIT workout,” says Castro. “Low-impact exercises are usually slower, and people aren’t used to moving slowly. But by slowing down, you’re actually training your mind and your deep muscle fibers to activate and build the strength needed to stabilize and work in unison with larger superficial muscles.”

This change in approach was truly eye-opening. I focused on quality over quantity and built a connection with my body. Everyday activities became more stable; carrying groceries, tidying the house and playing with my dogs became noticeably easier.

“Low-impact exercise is also more useful for daily life,” says Castro. “We spend most of our day moving at a leisurely pace. Our bodies are not designed to run and push for hours, so choosing a form of exercise that supports your normal everyday lifestyle can help extend life expectancy and quality of life, and prevent physical and emotional exhaustion, injuries, and chronic stress.”

Physical and mental changes

Even after starting gentler workouts and listening to my body, I realized my relentless drive to prove myself stemmed from an internalized fatphobia. Even though I had come to terms with my size 12 body and appreciated its strengths—like deeper squats and heavier weight lifting—I still viewed it through societal expectations.

Lauren Leavell, CPT, certified personal trainer and group fitness instructor, emphasizes in her classes that we are a community, not competitors, and that feeling different can be daunting, especially given the stereotypes about the capabilities of overweight people.

“It’s important to remember that this class is for you. If you want or need to take a break, then take one,” she says. “Straining through it just to perform for others isn’t necessarily going to support your movement practice. Learning to listen to your body is such a gift.”

Transitioning to gentler workouts was especially challenging for me as I transitioned into the gentle girl era. During the conscious movements of yoga and Pilates, my mind wanted to wander to mundane tasks or current conversations. The real challenge was staying present, refining each movement, and deepening my connection to my body.

Being a soft girl means wearing athletic shorts that accentuate my round hips, enjoying a warm tea before Pilates, finding my spot on the reformer, and chatting with the trainer before class. It’s about having peace before a workout, feeling a deep connection to my body in each pose, and smiling during challenging stretches. I enjoy a summer of water aerobics and taking breaks during nature walks to enjoy the scenery rather than chasing steps.

Being a soft girl has shown me a sustainable, joyful journey to stay active and connected to myself. It goes beyond striving for a perfect body that doesn’t exist or breaking personal records; it’s about finding peace and joy in every movement. To all the soft girls out there – see you in class.