Unbreakable

Unbreakable

When My Healing Journey Began: Part 1

A story I never wanted to tell — but must.

It wasn’t COVID.

When I sent that text to my boss to stay home for two weeks, that was the lie I told because the truth was too heavy to speak. I didn’t have COVID. I had been sexually assaulted by a coworker — a respected pastor, no less — and I needed time to breathe, to survive, to figure out what to do with the pieces of my world now scattered on the floor.

Two days before, that man — someone everyone trusted, someone many admired — came into my office at church. My office, with its glass walls and open door, should have been a safe place. But it wasn’t. He asked if he could touch me. I told him no. I told him, “These parts of my body are not available to be touched by you.” But no glass wall, no open door, no daylight, and no hallway of people could stop him. He touched me anyway.

I wish I could say I shouted, pushed him away, or ran to someone for help. But I froze. I survived the moment the only way my mind and body knew how. I put my feelings on hold, finished my day, and carried the shame like an invisible backpack nobody could see but me.

Why I’m Telling This Now

This is not a story about revenge. This is not a story written to destroy a man, a church, or an institution. This is my story — how my journey with trauma collided with my faith, my work, and my body. How, in a place meant to bring people closer to God, I was hurt by someone who claimed to serve Him.

I’m telling it because for years, I’ve accepted too many things as normal. I’ve seen power misused in workplaces — corporate and religious alike. I’ve heard people say “that’s just how it is.” I’ve silenced my own pain to make others comfortable.

But this time, I won’t.

How Pilates Found Me

If you’re wondering what this has to do with Pilates, the truth is — everything.

When I finally pressed record on my phone and captured him saying the words that still echo in my head, I was shaking. I was in shock. I was terrified. But then I grabbed my Pilates speaker, walked into my class, and taught my students as if nothing had happened. That hour on the mat was my lifeline. My body became my anchor — a place to reclaim my breath, my strength, my control.

I didn’t know it at the time, but this moment — this devastation — would push me deeper into Pilates not just as a workout, but as a practice for survival, healing, and reclaiming my power.

An Invitation

If you are reading this and you’ve ever been hurt, silenced, or shamed — I want you to know you are not alone. Part 1 is just the beginning of my story. I will share what happened after I reported him, how my faith was tested, and how my mat became the place I learned to stand again.

This is not an easy read — I know. But I believe in the power of telling the truth. And I believe healing is not something we do alone.

Thank you for being here. Thank you for reading my story, for letting my voice be heard. I hope it gives you permission to find yours too.

With grace and grit,
Paula

💛 Join the Journey

➡️ Want to know when Part 2 comes out?
Sign up for updates @Every1Pilates.

➡️ Looking for a safe space to move, breathe, and reclaim your body?
Explore my online Pilates classes @Every1Pilates.

➡️ Need someone to talk to?
You are not alone. Please reach out — resources and community are available.