Category Archives: Commitment

Break the Rules

Day 2/6—Break the Rules

There are all these rules that we always need to abide by: don’t do this, you can’t say that, you can’t wear that, etc. We allow ourselves to be defined by these self-imposed chains that we permit to shackle us and it’s absolutely horrible. How can we possible thrive if we are constantly functioning within someone else’s set of rules?!

Recently, Oprah Winfrey was slammed for having published in her magazine that only people with flat stomachs should wear crop tops. The backlash was intense leading thousands of woman taking to the interwebs to proudly share their bellies whether someone else found them to be flat or not (click here to learn more). Who’s to say what and how we should wear something?! If you want to wear a crop top and you feel good in it, wear a crop top. I kind of feel it’s that simple. Personally, for me clothing has always represented such a terrible source of frustration. I am short. So unless I buy pants in ankle lengths there’s about a foot of fabric that needs to be hemmed. And let’s not talk about my thighs and waist. Trying to get a pair of pants over my thighs let along fit me in the waist has been my life-long struggle. Ladies with thick thighs, you know the struggle and it is very real [never forget though, thick thighs save lives].

For the life of me, I never understood who designers make clothing for: most people are not 5’10…I often leave shopping excursions empty handed, frustrated, and many times in tears feeling like shit because nothing fits. What’s more, is I wish I had an ounce of the confidence many of the woman in this article have to wear the crop top and own their bodies in their awesome splendor. I think for me, much of the insecurities I encounter with my body don’t come from not wanting to love myself—because I do. For the first time in my life I have embraced my legs and now they’re my favorite body part. It’s more so about what I do for work as a fitness instructor. I worry that people will look at my body, judge it, and think I don’t work hard, eat right, or couldn’t possibly know anything about working out since I myself can’t get a handle on my own physique. Again, this is my shit.

Everyday is a battle to look in the mirror and love what I see reflected back to me. So in an effort to start building myself up, when I get dressed for work in the morning I stand in front of my bedroom mirror naked and tell myself something I love about myself. I know, it sounds hokey; talking to yourself. But try it. The power of positive affirmations have been proven to work. For if you don’t build yourself up, no one else will. You must first see your self-worth before others do, so start believing. The time is now.

To put it in perspective:

Despite what people have to say about Miley Cyrus I have to say I really admire her. While I didn’t have time [ok I forget] to watch last night’s VMA’s, I did get a chance to read about what she wore. Slammed by so many people for wearing her signature outrageously bold and minimal outfits, I looked at the pictures and thought to myself: You go get it, girl. Keep doing you and who gives a crap what the world thinks. You can see what Miley wore by clicking here.

If you don’t bend or break the rules and interpret them on your own accord, we don’t allow space for innovation and genius.

Arielle Miller-CohenI have had bright purple hair for over 2 years. Over the years, it has gotten brighter and now I have dyed the front of it blue. I don’t offer any apologies for wanting, no needing to express myself. People often ask me or stop me on the street saying, “Oh, but you couldn’t have a real job with that hair!”

Idiots. Not only do I have a real job, I have a Master’s Degree too. When are we going to stop passing unfounded judgment on people solely based on one’s appearance?!

I refuse to consider employment, let alone work anywhere I cannot have colored hair, need to cover my tattoos, or stifle my need to express myself. I am an individual. I have passions and interests and those passions and interests contribute to the person I am and how I leave my mark upon this world. Bottom line, I just need to be me.

Like it, love it, or leave.

I don’t offer any apologies for who I am. Strong and fiery, I voice my opinion regardless of whether it represents what others want to hear. My honesty has made me unpopular but I am not here to win any congeniality contests—I am here to live my truth and that means upholding the highest level of integrity I can so that my truest and most inner-self can flourish.

How do you uphold your truth? How do you Break the Rules so that you can continue to blossom and leave your mark on the world?

Trust Yourself

Day 1/6: GOAL CRUSHING–TRUST YOURSELF

It’s really hard to believe in yourself when you feel like your life has spiraled out of control and you feel completely directionless.

I have spent years waking up and going through the motions; walking into work like a zombie, not really seeing anyone or feeling much of anything. It seemed that by the time I left my job I was aware that a day had happened, words came out of my mouth, and I did my job but something was [and to a degree is still] missing. I recall leaving work and it almost feeling surreal because I was so unhappy I couldn’t fathom coming back the next day to rewind and start anew. It was a daunting thought considering I spent 20 grand for a Master’s Degree in a field I no longer wanted to be in.

I am ‘just a teacher’. So let’s face it, what could I possibly have to offer the ‘real world’ and work force? I felt trapped by my degrees and imprisoned by the conviction I held for my profession in my early to mid-twenties. I couldn’t leave teaching. What would I do? Who would hire me? What would people think if I walked away after all this time?

Arielle Ragnar Napa 1st legDistracted by my own languor, the noise was so deafening there seemed to be no way out until I found fitness. I mean really found fitness. Not fitness for the sake of needing or wanting to lose weight or get a bikini body, but the kind of fitness that was visceral. I found indoor cycling, yoga and later Crossfit, Spartan Race, Ragnar, and now Orange Theory.

I found that I needed to strike a balance to be happy in my workplace and that was sweating my face off as much as possible when I wasn’t wrangling America’s youth into loving the latest novel I was desperately trying to sell to them. As my enthusiasm and work in fitness expanded I was happier overall but 2 years ago I quit my teaching job to pursue my dream: I was going to be the next best thing in fitness since Jillian Michaels [insert ridiculous cackle here]. Initially, I found excitement in my new work but learned very quickly that teaching 20 group fitness classes a week was not all that it’s cracked up to be. In addition to my indoor cycling and yoga classes teaching load, I was taking on personal training clients. Nevertheless, despite my clients reaping the results of their nutritional coaching and training with me, after a while clients just kind of move on and stop renewing their sessions. The hustle of group fitness was daunting and survival mode set in.

Teach, teach, teach.

There were no sick days.

There were no mental health days to recharge.

I had no choice but to become a machine.

Me with two of my Spartan Race friends who came out to support me at the cycling studio I opened on my hiatus from education
With two of my Spartan Race friends who came out to support me at the indoor cycling studio I opened while on my hiatus from education

My livelihood became dependent upon how many classes I could teach in a week, was offered, and head counts. It didn’t take long for me to step back and realize that I was getting fat from not having time to workout but I was also still unhappy. Really? Wasn’t this choice supposed to magically fix all of that?! Within 6 months I found myself back in a classroom, and like before, it was only a matter of time before the honeymoon period wore off and I regretted coming back. Now, the lesson here isn’t that I am chronically miserable. That couldn’t be further from the truth. It took major guts for me to Trust Myself and walk away from my teaching position. At the time I was working for UCLA at a prestigious school. People thought I had lost my mind that I was going to ‘just teach yoga with a Master’s Degree’. People worried about where I would get health insurance, and how I would make money, and threw all these ‘What If’s’ at me. And while I considered them, I had to let go of what other people thought about my choice and own the hell out of it.

Look.

It didn’t work out. I know that and you know that—I am [still] back in the classroom. But I learned a hell of a lot from my venture out of teaching. I learned what doesn’t make me happy and that’s what this journey is all about; redefining what happiness is and how it transpires in our lives. Now, at my 2nd school in almost 2 years, I am still unsure if being an educator is my role. Sure, I like it a lot more than I did a year ago but there is something tugging at my heart and soul. There’s a whisper in my ear saying “Is this it…? There’s something else for you…If you dare to take a peek…I can’t seem to shake it. What I can say it certainly isn’t is being a full time group fitness instructor. But is this ‘something else’ calling to me to pursue my dreams as a writer? To bring to life my vision of fitness and empowerment through education? Am I supposed to be doing something else?

My intuition tells me the answer is resoundingly, yes.

1974982_10152296329801450_453456657_nSo, in an effort to Trust Myself I am going to start submitting my writing to online outlets. I am going to start trusting in myself as a writer and shoot to share my words with a larger audience. And if it doesn’t work out, like my failed attempt to leave teaching two years ago, I will live and I will learn, and I will be better for it because I trusted myself.

As a reminder, here are take-aways from the piece above:

  • What speaks to your soul and makes you giddy with joy and excitement?
  • What have you learned about taking a chance or risk in your past?
  • Stop giving a shit what other people think or say and just do it!

Now, it’s your turn. Share with us your tales of when you trusted yourself, what you learned but let’s dig a litter deeper: How are you going to take what you’ve learned and channel it moving forward? What does it mean to you, to Trust Yourself?

Go Get ‘Em

Last week I talked about feeling completely and utterly broken down and demoralized. And while feelings are feelings and we should feel them and honor them, I certainly don’t condone wallowing in self-pity.

My words last week were meet with your support and affirming words of understanding and appreciation for giving you a voice. After my post went live, the comments, texts, messages, and emails flooded in for days. I was so humbled to be a representative for the voiceless as that’s always my goal as a writer. Well, I want to give us a new voice, rather another voice. I want to give us the ability to see the power in goal-setting, putting it all out there, and chasing after things we want. I want us all to reformulate our energies and look ahead to the future as goal-crushers and I think I have just the right amount of focus and inspiration to do that.

Still reeling from my bruised ego and shit show at last week’s IG Getaway in Santa Monica, my dear childhood friend contacted me reminding me about this video he had been wanting me to watch on You Tube. Busy for a change, his requests got lost in the shuffle but then yesterday while savoring the calm before the storm of students bombarded my day, I finally watched the video he sent me: Arnold Schwarzenegger’s 6 Rules to Success. Click here to watch it, or watch the embedded video below.

Now, I know. You’re laughing because it’s Arnold. You know, the former Governor of California, the Terminator, or even the same man marred by having an affair and an illegitimate love-child with his cleaning lady—Yes, THAT Arnold. I laughed at first too, even told my friend Craig that I couldn’t possibly have anything to learn from this man. Oh, how utterly wrong I was—I happily ate those words after watching that video. Arnold’s words pierced to the depths of my soul. I cried listening to him for it was as if Arnold knew I was fumbling aimlessly, and listlessly, trying to figure out who I am, what I am supposed to do, yearning to find my purpose in this world. I wrote down his 6 rules:

  1. Trust Yourself
  2. Break the Rules
  3. Don’t be Afraid to Fail
  4. Don’t Listen to the Naysayers
  5. Work your Butt Off!
  6. Give Back to Others

11951893_10100789393057021_5778588276736185_nAnd while devising a lesson to bring this incredible information to my high school students, I realized that I had to share this with my readers too. Let’s do something together over the next 6 days.

Each day I will feature one rule from the list in the order they’re posted above. Each day I will discuss how that rule will take shape in my life and I will share my goal-setting to achieve success with all of you. But the work isn’t done there! You have homework too!

For each day I post, I want you to hold yourself accountable by commenting and posting your road map to success for that specific rule to success. Start brainstorming now, because we start tomorrow!

It is time to stop wishing and wanting and time for us to manifest that shit. We are in this together—I can’t wait to hear from you all tomorrow: Trust Yourself.

Ain’t no ‘Do Nothin’ B**ch’

A few days ago, I received a text from a friend. Her boyfriend sent her a video of Ronda Rousey talking about how she isn’t some “Do Nothing Bitch” and that the video reminded him of me. I watched the video in awe and insanely flattered. Rousey hit the nail on the head—she certainly ain’t no Do Nothing Bitch, but neither am I.

Watch the video Ronda Rousey Do Nothing Bitch video, or click below.

Right now, there seems to be something amazing happening in the mainstream media world. Women like Ronda Rousey and Coach Jen Welter (Cardinals assistant coach) are paving the way for physically and emotionally strong women to be celebrated for their efforts and athletic pursuits. Now, while women are still a long way from being treated like our male counterparts in the professional arena, we are making progress and that is better than stagnating.

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Jen Welter, Cardinals Asst. Coach

For me, seeing a powerhouse like Rousey openly discuss what people think of her ‘manly’ physique and not give two shits is exactly what I am talking about. Now, on a personal level I do not watch nor really condone the sport of Mixed Martial Arts (MMA) aka kick the shit out of someone and beat them to a bloody pulp—but that is just me and I can still see and respect the athleticism of it all. Rousey embodies the strength and determination I love to see in a person, especially in a woman.

As a woman, we are so often put down or held back merely as a result of our gender and that is just bogus in 2015. People are still astounded when woman achieve greatness in the workplace, on the field, or in the gym. You guys, women are doctors, lawyers, teachers, and SO MUCH MORE; it’s terribly archaic to assume because I have breasts that I am less than a man. Frankly, I think it’s all a load of bullshit and I work tirelessly everyday to change this out-dated stereotype by proving I can be just like the boys in and out of the gym.

Growing up I was a thick kid. I have mentioned before that my mother had to take me shopping in the ‘Husky’ section or even the Ladies section because I was overweight. I could sugar coat this and be kinder in discussing my thick thighs and glutes but there is no sense in that, I was a fat kid, period. As if shopping in the fat-kid and old lady sections weren’t demeaning enough, I was into sports and in the 80’s and early 90’s. At this time, girls weren’t playing with the boys and I was ridiculed mercilessly. There were no girls on football teams and equity in school athletics for girls was just emerging—ugh, can you believe that?!

I was taunted for playing with the boys.

I was brutally tormented by the kids on the bus, in the yard at lunch, or while at summer camp because not only did I play with the boys—but I was better than the boys too. I always felt like because I was a girl, I had something to prove. The kids called me horrible names like Lesbo, Dyke, and Tomboy. And while I really didn’t even know or understand why liking to play sports meant I was a lesbian, I just didn’t understand the insult [and still don’t]. How was being athletic something bad? Thankfully, my father was way ahead of the game. He modeled and raised me to truly own my awesome and be my own person because while I am deeply sensitive, I possess a thick skin for haters. I mean let’s be real here:

If you’re hated, you are doing something right, right?

As powerful and athletic women like the US Soccer Team, Rousey, and Welter pave the way for girls to not just play with the boys but to be respected like the boys, I can’t help but wonder could I be like them? Could I be that person for a little girl who looks to me for inspiration, the courage to look the haters in the face and say, “Like it, love it, or leave because I’m not going anywhere”. I guess on a level I try to be that person through my high school teaching and work as a yoga instructor. My goal is to always deliver a face-meltingly hard workout while empowering others to build themselves up and find their place in fitness.

So girls, this one is for you. Do not ever let someone hold you back from something you love. Never listen to the naysayers, because I can’t and I won’t have no place in your vocabulary. Embrace your ferocity and own it for there is only one version of you and it’s beautiful.

Stripped

wildthingFor the month of July I have been participating in an Instagram backbend yoga challenge. In the 3 years that I have been teaching yoga, never once have I participated in one of these yoga challenges. Actually, I think there was a time maybe wayyyyyyy back that I attempted one and after 2 days I lost the steam. Maybe it wasn’t the right challenge for me. But really I chalk it up to a few things as to why up until very recently I rarely posted pictures of me in yoga poses or committed to an online yoga challenge. Yoga and fitness is a very ‘look at me’ kind of industry. I try not to play into the yoga instructor stereotypes of being scantily clad in inaccessible yoga poses for the masses to gawk at. Frankly, I think it sends a bad message to the masses. I think what the yoga and fitness industry has done to sell its self is disgusting. These industries prostitute themselves in an effort to sell a product whether it be protein powder, a studio, a clothing line—whatever, by using sex to lure in buyers by making yoga now a sexy thing. Basically, they are SENDING THE WRONG MESSAGE.

11755233_10100762894859621_5240393937280972723_nYoga is about love and equity. Yoga is about hitting your mat and delving closer and closer to your essential-self. Yoga is about non-attachment and never competing with anyone, and that also includes yourself. And finally, yoga loves and welcomes everyone regardless of size, sex, race, sexual orientation, or class. Yoga is blind; it embraces us and loves us, even when we can’t love ourselves. So why are these yoga challenges and half-naked yogis so dangerous?

They don’t tell us or even guide us to look inward. They are 1-dimensional, showing us how yoga should look: white, skinny, and if you don’t have a handstand, well then you aren’t a yogi. At least, that’s what I take away from all of this. As a yoga instructor, I know a few things about the human body and one of them is that there are some people genetically blessed with hyper-mobility. Yogi’s in splits, backbending, arms back behind their heads, clasping their foot. Yeah, that will NEVER be me. Aside from a host of injuries, my body doesn’t move that way. Hell, I am a yoga instructor and my body doesn’t move a lot of ways. And you know what? There is nothing wrong with that because this body can move in a lot of other ways as it runs, jumps, squats, punches, and is SO strong that I wouldn’t trade it in for a backbend. In that same accord, the science and statistics note that hyper-mobile yogis ARE wired differently muscularly AND they are prone to injury more than their less-mobile counterparts. YES, the super bendy get hurt more often as a result of pushing too hard and too far, and often may skip warming up because their bodies make challenging asana (poses) easier, or more accessible.

1518361_10100759346665231_6239785528249747310_n

That said, I don’t hate these people per say. The genetically blessed, the actors and models turned fitness instructors, the dancers, and me: The short, muscular, ethnically ambiguous unyoga yogi with purple hair and a fiery spirit. Together we all comprise this industry and there is room for everyone to shine in their own right. So I caved and I decided that it was time to participate in a yoga challenge but do so on my own terms. I was going to use this challenge as a way to unveil how yoga looks when real people do it and what happens when real people can’t do crazy shit on their hands or twist into a pretzel. I wanted to start carving out a niche for all the people with real bodies to be welcomed, embraced, and thrive. I wanted to show the world that yoga IS blind. I combated my demons and I choose to shoot my yoga challenge without a shirt on, in my sports bra. If the tall and lean can do it—why can’t I? Why shouldn’t I? Should I care that my belly is a little soft? Should I worry what others will think if I can’t do a pose because I’m a yoga instructor? I decided to say screw it all and strip myself down to tear down borders and barriers to pave the way for others:

Be yourself, love yourself, and stop giving a shit what others think about you.

11659456_10100755511974981_6370464093040561674_nTaking off my shirt has taught me so much more than I anticipated. First, it certainly has helped me hate myself less because I have started to embrace my body. Who would have thought that taking off my clothes for thousands of people to see would do that?!—but it did. Taking off my shirt is liberating and a way for me to make a statement that real bodies are not going to fade into the backdrop of celebrity fitness personalities because someone else says so. Yoga is about reclaiming your emotions and life while serving others. This yoga challenge, with my belly exposed is my first stab at The Body Movement: real bodies, real fitness, real people, real stories.

I refuse to hide my body from the world. I have worked too damn hard, had too many injuries, too many knee surgeries, and sweat through countless classes and trainings to let someone else tell me how to define my yoga practice and dictate whether my body is undesirable. This yoga challenging is where I take back the power. This yoga challenge is where I show the world that strong IS sexy and yoga is for everybody. Join me. Start baring it all—take your shirt off and join me #TheBodyMovement #DaretoBareitAll #TakeoffYOURshirt. Are you in, or are you in?

Find me on Instragram at arielle_miller, it’s time to start #TheBodyMovement self-love revolution and celebrate all bodies!

hand to foot

Go and Be Impressive

Settling back into real life and a routine since the wedding has been challenging. My eating and nutrition have been unrestrained and getting in regular workouts with errands and such just hasn’t happened. I’ve been feeling sluggish and out of shape. It’s amazing at how fast that happens, right? While working out today I felt tired but kept pushing. Despite the fact that today’s effort wasn’t my best display of athleticism, it certainly was the best I had in me in those very moments and that’s what really matters—being the best version of ourselves in the present moment.

My runs felt heavy but I kept pushing. I kept thinking to myself that I did this to myself and I can undo this to myself because I am strong and have the power to do it. Running, rowing, running, rowing. My arms no longer felt attached to my body. I battled to pump my arms while on the treadmill and sometimes I even had to straighten them out and whip them around myself because they were so fatigued from the rower. But I kept going. I was tired; no, I was exhausted but I kept going. And then I looked to my right. The guy next to me was losing steam. Normally, when I am working out for me, I turn off the Fitness Instructor so I can be present for me. But I don’t know, today it felt right and something in his face made me to turn to him and offer him simple words, “C’mon, you’ve got this.” I know all too well that a little encouragement can go a long way when you are down and out, so I figured; why not?

The man didn’t seem to hear me because he didn’t respond. I contemplated saying it again or something else but I didn’t. I redirected my energies to my legs that were seemingly still attached to my body and propelling themselves forward on the treadmill. Finally, the workout ended. The same man I ran next to came up to me after class and said “Thank you, I really needed that.” We chatted briefly and he told me he thought I was ‘so impressive’ and that he couldn’t keep up with my speed. He shared that he was inspired by my hard work and that my kind words in class helped him finish the workout.

Impressive, eh? Someone thought I was impressive?! And here it turns out that in order to be considered impressive all I had to do was be me and show a little compassion.

Go be you today. Go be friggen impressive and look over to a stranger tonight in class [yes, even in yoga] or anywhere, and tell them something nice and encouraging.

Up Close & Personal

I just came back from a workout after driving home and crying to my mother on the phone. I walked into my apartment, ate the remaining half of Greg’s gluten free marble brownie (sorry, Greg!), and started to feel bad for myself. As a matter of fact, over the course of the last 2 hours, I have mentally and verbally beaten myself up so badly, I am ashamed. I received a work-related email in which my boss would like to speak to me. I should have known better than to read the email 30 seconds before my workout, but I did nonetheless. Thinking my emotions associated with the contents of the email would motivate me, they did the contrary. I completely shut down.

I walked onto my treadmill feeling deflated, worthless, fat, ugly, and hated every fiber of my being. I gazed into the mirror in front of me and the negative self-talk didn’t stop. It was a barrage of fire and I was assaulting myself. As class started and hit its flow, the emotional and mental onslaught didn’t let up. The entire workout, I was distracted, angry, and lacked focus. I was so stuck inside my head that every step while running, every pull while rowing, every weight I lifted was sheer agony. I just wanted to scream in frustration for myself and my emotions that seized control of my mind and now robbed me of my workout [Damn it, there goes my money. Wasted money and a wasted workout].

While working out at Orange Theory Fitness I always run my ass off on the treadmill. I have always logged mileage and speeds in the ‘Runner’s Category’ and I have been happy with my progress. Never walking during a workout, I always push myself by amping up my speed just another .1, then another, then another, and I empower myself. Typically, I am fueled intrinsically but today in the last set of my treadmill work on a 9 incline, I lost all my steam. For the first time ever in one of my OTF workouts, I gave up in the second to last set and walked. As if I hadn’t endured enough of a battle thus far, now I was reduced to walking. Oozing with self-hatred and fuming from my self-perceived defeats of my workout, I came back for the final 30 second all-out push at an incline of 11. While I didn’t succumb to my initial defeat, I spent an entire hour of my workout loathing every minute of it and every part of my physical and emotional-self.

If you’re wondering how this happened, it’s really very simple. I am very sensitive. Yes, me—very sensitive. While I present rough and tough, I am a ball of mush, hormones, tears, and all that gooey shit. I was ‘that’ kid that cried if a teacher yelled at me or if someone hurt my feelings as a kid. So the email that I read before class completely got me off kilter because it played into my insecurities and inadequacies as to what I am offering people as a fitness instructor. At three years into this industry, I have learned lots and lots of things: what I like to teach, where I like to teach, for whom, when, etc. I have also met some amazing people and have great friends as a result of my classes. But there is also a very ugly side to this industry. While I try not to get caught up in the fact that I am short and muscular and will never be a ‘fitness model’ or personality, I have always stayed true the fact that I am a bad ass, period. I work hard, teach hard classes, care deeply about my work and participants in my class and that’s that. BUT when others perceive those efforts differently, or class attendance is low, it hurts and I take it personally because this work IS personal. There is no other way to say it. Each and every song on my playlists are designed to evoke emotion and to enhance class. Every ride is mapped to offer an intense experience and a workout to blow your mind. Every yoga class is taught with my heart to challenge your body and soul. So when someone doesn’t like my work or stops coming to class—it hurts.

You would think that over time, some of the realities of the feedback and people outgrowing me as an instructor would get easier, but it doesn’t. My husband and others have told me for years to stop making everything so personal, but how can I not take it personally? I am responsible for helping people reach goals, get healthier, become fit/more fit, work on challenging asana (yoga poses), empower themselves, cultivate strength and confidence, redefine commitment, help them find the light, and I am not supposed to take this work personally?!?! As a fitness instructor I am entrusted with people most often at their most vulnerable. Subsequently, my work IS personal and I take what I do as instructor very seriously because I care. Every single bit of my work is personal because people trust me to guide them, support them, and keep them safe during a workout. As far as I am concerned, that is a pretty tremendous amount of responsibility I do not take lightly.

IMG_8062So while my skin is certainly not any thicker by working in this industry, I am going to continue to bring love and light to my work. I am going to continue to fight my demons and re-commit to my work and hope that while I am on this path, others will join me. I am going to continue to work on inner-cising to build myself up, the same way I help bring up those around me and own every single bit of my greatness. After all, I do have an obligation to the people who take my classes to be there for them—so this is for you. And though this industry doesn’t love me back because it tells me I’m too short, too fat, too muscular, too purple, too rogue, not yoga enough, too ‘Schwinn’, or don’t focus enough on alignment, and the list goes on, what I am is ME.

I am vibrant. I am real. I am true. I am me.

And whether you want to admit it or not, I am you.

Lifted Up in Love

Greg and I married with fist
We did it folks, we are married! Whoohooooo!

Five short days ago, I got married. It’s so strange, because I feel the same, but so different at the same time. I suppose the best way I could really put it is that everything and nothing has changed simultaneously.

On June 20, 2015, I wed my soul’s beloved and simply put, it was The Best Day of My Life.

wedding over looking patioBefore walking down the aisle to meet Gregory under the chuppah, I was trembling. My butt was shaking like I just had the hardest glute day of my life. I have no clue why all of a sudden every muscle in my body started to seize, but all at once the nerves I was supposed to feel leading up to this moment surged through my body. However, as quickly as the nervous energy coursed through my body, once I stepped out to meet my true love, I was surrounded by hundreds of bright eyes, endearing smiles, and overflowing love from our friends and families.

Enveloped in the warmth of our guests, I couldn’t help be completely mesmerized that all of these people showed up for us. People were sitting, standing, lining up the stairwell, and genuinely happy to share in our celebration of love. As I walked out and stood atop the staircase to gaze upon our guests, I was met with love and joy. The tight quarters on the patio where we wed made it intimate and the energy palpable. All eyes on me, I felt so elated I thought I was going to burst out of my skin.Me and Greg on railing

People traveled from New York and Florida, took off from work, secured childcare, attended while pregnant, some very pregnant, all because they decided to make Greg and I a priority in their lives. After it was all said and done, the things that people say leading up to a wedding don’t really make much sense—it’s after the wedding that it all seems to reveal itself.

Me kassi and Craig
My oldest childhood camp friend Craig flew in from New York to share in my special day
Me on patio before ceremony
Taking in the patio before the guests arrive…simply incredible, I was blown away!

As many of you know, prior to our wedding I wrote about how hurt I was by many people. Both Gregory and myself had long-time friends and family not attend our wedding, avoid responding, claim to have sent the RSVP and gifts (neither of which ever arrived), and just flat out ignored the invite all together claiming “they forgot to respond”. This pre-wedding drama seemed to consume and devastate us. People said focus on those attending, making the trip, and who love you, etc. And while we both desperately tried to remain positive, the hurt of friends and family ran deep. Even the day-of our wedding we received texts and Facebook messages (yes, Facebook messages) from guests who in the last minute were letting us know that they would not be attending…

And you know what? None of that bullshit mattered at 6pm when I walked down that aisle to meet the man who is everything I wanted and didn’t know that I needed at the same time.

Not once did I think about those not in attendance. Not once did I lament in their absence or warrant their poor behavior with even so much as a thought about people not at my wedding. And I imagine that given the disgustingly poor etiquette of some, they didn’t think about us either and I am so OK with that. Now, I know this sounds callous and that’s not the way I want this to come across. My point in saying that I didn’t think about the hurt is because I was so swallowed in love and being present on my wedding day, that all the shit leading up to June 20th simply didn’t matter. None of it mattered. All that mattered was making sure my guests had a great time, kissing my husband, and laughing the night away.

A tender moment with my dad, AKA Abba
A tender moment with my dad, AKA Abba

Our wedding was surely a night to remember: from the chicken and waffles to Frach’s Fried Ice Cream. Both the best and fastest party I have ever attended in my life, I know that we both never stopped smiling and chatting with our guests. Greg keeps asking when we get a ‘do-over’ because it was so fun and went by so fast. The night was a blur. I’m not sure how much of that blur is a result of the libations, but as quickly as it all started, it seemed I looked around the venue and it was empty—the night was over. The decorations of the banister, mason jars, chairs, and space which seemed to be my life over the last month just dissolved into the night as I walked hand-in-hand down Hollywood Blvd. with my husband Gregory back to our hotel. Flashes of hugs and kisses with my family dance across my mind, congratulations from friends, and above all, gratitude floods my heart.

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My amazing parents that have been married forever!  I am blessed to have such great role models in love!

On June 20, 2015, I wed my soul’s beloved and simply put, it was The Best Day of My Life.

Thank you for being part of our lives, our celebration, and above all our love. Love lives out loud and it is our hope that through our love we can help spread love to the darkest corners of people’s hearts. And while everyone always seems to think that their love story is ‘The Love Story’ of all love stories, we like to believe that our love story is a reflection of those in our lives who help us be better lovers for one another. Thank you for lifting us up in our love and reflecting love back to us—we love you all.

When Love Just Happens, Part II

As promised, here are my vows to my beloved Gregory. Before posting this, like yesterday, Greg and I re-read our vows to one another. Both times we were emotional and found ourselves in tears. By sharing our love with the world we hope to celebrate all love and spread love. As Greg is my light, I truly hope that we could be the light for others…

Arielle to Greg 6/20/15:

Who would have thought that I would have had to come all the way to Los Angeles to meet and marry a Long Island Jewish boy?!

Greg, just one week into our fledgling romance I knew that you were the man I would spend the rest of my life with.

The instant I left that fateful cycling class, I was smitten—from the way you bob your head when you ride, to your [mostly] impeccable taste in music, your ridiculously infectious personality made you irresistible. Your ability to inspire each and every person with whom you come into contact continually leaves me awestruck.

What is more, I never thought I would find someone who shared the same love of remixes, mash-ups, and indoor cycling the way I did.

Greg, your gift to wake up everyday with a giant smile on your face warms my heart. It still doesn’t make getting up in the morning any easier, but it sure sweetens the whole experience.

You make me a better person.

You make me want to be the best at everything I tackle to honor you…to honor us. Our partnership and union is a reflection of our love. How we conduct ourselves together and while teaching our classes or working, to me is still an extension of our devotion. I promise to always honor us and the passionate, fiery, dedication that you bring to our marriage in all that I do.

I promise to start hanging my clothes up instead of piling them next to my side of the bed. I promise to fold our laundry and put it away in under a week’s time. And lastly, I cannot promise I will do the dishes, but what I can promise is that with each passing day, I do and will continue to fall deeper and deeper in love with you.

Greg, you are my heart and the essence of my spirit. You build me up and ground me while I try to fumble through this world. You are my light. A beacon shining bright, worthy of admiration and respect. I promise to honor you and in the process, I will try to be less cranky when I am waking up in the mornings or when I am hangry.

Now we no longer fumble through this world alone, but we blaze a path, standing side-by-side, leaving an indelible mark upon this world, igniting embers of hope, passion, and inspiration for others.

Thank you for picking me, Greg. For when I am with you, I am part of you and I am privileged to be the woman who stands beside you and gets to wash your sweaty fitness clothes. I love you eternally and will forever cherish you and above all, us.

Writing a Legacy Worth Leaving Behind

“Those who know, do.

Those that understand, teach.” 
― Aristotle

Joseph and I after the graduation ceremony. Yes, I am in yoga pants, as I hustled my butt over to Westwood after teaching a double. When you care about someone or something, one doesn't make excuses--one makes IT happen!
Joseph and I after the graduation ceremony. Yes, I am in yoga pants, as I hustled my butt over to Westwood after teaching a double. When you care about someone or something, one doesn’t make excuses–one makes IT happen!

Yesterday, I had the distinct privilege and honor to watch my former student Jospeh (whom I taught in 2005-2006 when he was in 8th grade!) graduate from UCLA with a degree in English.

While I’m not a parent, I can only imagine what an overwhelming sensation experiencing such a momentous life event maybe, as I cried like a baby in route to the ceremony and during it. I wept with joy and hope for this young man’s bright future, as it is now HIS time.

Over the last few years, my relationship with my career as an English teacher has been tumultuous. I spent the early years of my career fiercely over-committed to the job by starting my day an hour early and leaving well into the evenings.

I drove students home from school, made home visits, fundraised via a non-profit I created to purchase materials for my classroom, and even owned and operated a website for my students to blog. I made myself fully and completely accessible to my students and their families 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. There was no break from my students or my work. I was so dedicated that even on breaks from school, I taught/worked with my students at school in my classroom for FREE to ensure their success!

It was a time in my life that happened in a sort of blur of children, testing, more children, and some great memories. But I also know that during this time while dedicated to my students and school, I had zero life beyond my career, packed on the pounds, and was depressed.

As I dove deeper and deeper into my career, my passion started to fizzle and before I knew it, I hit full out burn out. I cried driving to work in the mornings; I cried when I came home from work. I just couldn’t be at work without wanting to leave the instant I opened my car door. I was lost, angry, and so confused—why was I feeling this way? What happened to me? Wasn’t this my life’s work?!

After months of enduring this horrible vicious cycle, my curiosity got the best of me and I actually mustered the courage to wander into a yoga room. What seems like almost instantly, my life was forever altered for the better. Yoga taught me how to control my breath and how to build the capacity within myself to find balance. And slowly, as I started to regain my footing in life and at work, I started to advocate for myself by ensuring my emotional well-being was always first.

I stopped staying late at school. I immediately left after the last bell to hit a yoga or cycling class, or to play soccer. I did however still arrive early to tackle school work and I also kept my room open to students during recess and lunch times. I knew that in order to continue to serve others in this world, I had to nurture and serve myself first. I learned through my subsequent burn out and revitalization through yoga, that I must do me before I am to be able to truly help others reach their potential.

Yoga and physical movement provided me with the capacity to learn what it meant to value myself and strike some sort of work-life balance. So I am sure you are wondering if my teaching suffered during this journey to reclaiming myself…As a matter of fact, the more I delved into myself, underwent yoga teacher training, and teaching fitness; it made me a better human and an even better teacher. Teaching group fitness helped reawaken my sense of compassion and ability to embrace everyone and meet individuals exactly as they were. So coming back to my sweet Joseph now walking across the stage at UCLA with a degree in English, he hopes to become a teacher. I cannot think of a more powerful way to leave a mark on the world than to inspire someone to go to college, graduate, and essentially follow in my footsteps. I texted my family saying, “My life’s work is complete. I have made my mark, I can die now…

Pauley Pavilion at UCLA, pre-ceremony
Pauley Pavilion at UCLA, pre-ceremony

My years of struggle and heartache seemed to disappear when I saw Joseph’s sweet face emblazoned on the screen. They simply all faded away because today was the day I got to watch in real-time the powerful effect that teachers have upon our youth.

People say that today’s youth are well, you know—technology obsessed and nothing like ‘us’. I mean we played outside and used a card catalog when researching school projects in a place called a library—there was no such thing as Google. But if you look a little deeper, and look a little closer, today’s youth are still children waiting to have the right person come into their lives to ignite that spark. It is up to us as teacher, leaders, instructors, clergy, parents, etc. to harness the youth’s interests and help them reach their full potential.

I will never forget the day I watched Joseph graduate from UCLA. I will also never forget how special it felt to sit amongst his family, beaming with pride. It is the Joseph’s of my life that continue to remind me why I became a teacher and for that gift Joseph, I am eternally grateful.