Setting Boundaries as an Instructor

Setting Boundaries as an Instructor (The Part No One Warns You About)

Let’s be honest.

Most of us didn’t get into Pilates to not make money.
We wanted full classes.
A packed private schedule.
Waitlists.
Clients who loved us and wanted more.

And then one day… you actually did it.

Your schedule is full.
You’re making the money you said you wanted to make.

And you hate going to work.

I’m not saying that for shock value. I’m saying it because that was my life.

I’ve lived the packed schedule. I’ve lived the back-to-back sessions, the full classes, the clients who wanted me three times a week. I’ve lived the days where there was no time to eat, no time to breathe, and no space to think—just teach, teach, teach.

And here’s the messed-up part:
The only way out seemed to be… making less money.

Tell me that’s not a cruel joke.

We work toward the full schedule. We’re told that’s success. So when you finally get there and realize you’re burnt out, resentful, and exhausted, it feels like you did something wrong—even though you did exactly what you were taught to do.

This is where it really starts to hurt.

You’ve got the client you’ve had forever.
They come three times a week.
They “can’t imagine” training with anyone else.

You’ve got the class that’s always full.
Students swear they won’t take it if you’re not teaching.

So you feel trapped.

How do you tell a long-time client you need to cut back?
How do you step away from a class that fills every time?
How do you say no when everything in this industry tells you that saying yes is how you survive?

Here’s the controversial truth:

You can say no.
And you probably need to.

Setting boundaries doesn’t make you ungrateful.
It doesn’t mean you don’t care.
And it doesn’t mean you’re bad at business.

What it means is that you want a career that lasts longer than your nervous system can tolerate right now.

And yes—people might be disappointed.
Yes—there might be gaps for a while.
That part is scary, and anyone who tells you otherwise is lying.

But staying stuck in a schedule you resent is far more dangerous than the temporary discomfort of change.

Boundaries don’t shrink your work—they create space.

Space to host the workshop you keep putting off.
Space to move from endless privates into small group sessions.
Space to teach earlier in the day instead of dragging yourself in when you’re already spent.

This isn’t just a Pilates problem.
But it is especially hard in an industry built on serving people.

We care. We attach. We feel responsible.
And that makes the hard conversations feel unbearable.

That’s why most instructors don’t need another manual or pricing formula.
They need support.

They need someone who’s done this—who’s had the conversations, felt the fear, rewritten the schedule, and survived it.

I know exactly what this feels like because I lived it.
And I can tell you: it will be okay.

Having someone to talk it through with.
Someone to help you script the conversation.
Someone to remind you that setting boundaries isn’t failure—it’s leadership.

That’s beyond the manual.
And that’s the work that actually keeps you teaching.