I Took the Press Off the Walls

The wall

When WundaBar Pilates first opened, we had a wall. Every time we landed a big piece of press, it got framed and hung up in the studio where clients could see it on their way to the WundaFormers. The New York Times, People, Seventeen, US Weekly...photos of celebrities coming in.

I loved that wall. It validated my first go into an entirely new venture. New clients would stop and read it before class. It told everyone who walked in that this place was real, that people who knew what they were talking about had noticed us.

Why I needed it

I was new to Pilates as a business owner, and the brand was brand new. I think some part of me felt like I had to prove we were good enough. As a marketer coming into Pilates from the outside (I left my movie biz gig for Pilates) the press did that job for me. It was the proof I could point to before anyone had taken a single class.

And for a while, it served. That's worth saying. There's nothing wrong with leaning on a little outside validation when you're just starting and nobody knows your name yet.

But one day I looked at that wall and realized it wasn't doing anything anymore. What was happening in the room was so good. The teaching, the energy, the way clients left class feeling like themselves again. Nobody needed a framed article to tell them that. They could feel it a few minutes in.

So I took it all down.

What the empty wall taught me

Taking it down felt bigger than it should have. It was a few frames. But it meant I was choosing to trust myself and the work we were putting out every day, without the backup.

It also meant something I didn't expect. I got comfortable with the idea that our studio wasn't going to be for everyone. When the wall was up, I think I was trying to convince people. Look who's talking about us. You should be here.

With it gone, I stopped trying to convince so hard. If someone came in and it wasn't their thing, that was fine. The people who were meant to be there stayed, and they stayed because of what they felt in class. That's a much better reason than a headline.

The photo

I thought about that wall recently, as we gathered to take the speaker photo at Pink Skirt Summit in Kelowna, BC.

Look at who was in that frame. Renee Warren. Jennifer Gottlieb. Maria Wendt. Adley. Jenn Pike. Anita Guerini. Patrice Washington. Women I admire, women who have built serious things. A younger version of me might have looked at that lineup and quietly felt small. Like I'd snuck in.

I didn't feel that way at all.

People talk about imposter syndrome like it's something every founder has to carry around. It isn't something I subscribe to. I know what I've built and I know the work behind it. Taking the press off the walls all those years ago was one of the first times I practiced that, and it stuck.

The room makes a difference

I'd be leaving something out if I said it was all me, though. A big part of why I felt at home in that photo was the choices I make every day to surround myself with people who lead with integrity, joy, kindness.

I simply don't spend time anywhere unless we share what worked, cheer for each other's wins, make introductions. When you're surrounded by that, feeling small doesn't get much of a foothold.

Community over competition. I say it a lot because I've watched it work, in my studios and in rooms like that one.

So here's my question for you. What's your version of the press wall? The thing you keep holding up so people will believe you belong? You might be closer than you think to not needing it anymore.

Seven words for you: Leave. The. Imposter. Syndrome. At. The. Door.

WundaLove, 

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