I want to share a reflection that’s been sitting with me since I released my manifesto for the fitness industry. If you don’t know what I’m talking about you can read it here.
A few well-known industry leaders reached out. Some agreed. Some didn’t. That part? Totally expected.
But one piece of feedback did catch my attention though.
Someone said they felt the manifesto “wasn’t very nice” and that it’s “putting others down.”
That’s an opinion. And they’re allowed to have it.
But here’s what I found interesting.
The strongest pushback came almost exclusively from program directors and managers – the people who decide what gets programmed, what gets rewarded, and what kind of teaching gets elevated in the industry.
The same people who, for years, have chosen performance-heavy teaching over skill-based instruction.
That made me pause.
Because when a system gets questioned, the people most invested in that system often feel it as a personal critique – even when it isn’t framed that way.
Let me be clear about something.
Critiquing a system is not the same as attacking people.
Pointing out patterns isn’t the same as putting anyone down.
And discomfort doesn’t automatically mean harm.
Sometimes it just means a mirror showed up.
I wasn’t calling out individual instructors.
I wasn’t saying performers are bad.
I wasn’t saying anyone is wrong for loving choreography, flash, or creativity.
What I was questioning is a culture that prioritizes looking good over teaching well – and then wonders why instructors burn out, students don’t return, and classes feel harder than they need to be.
If that landed as “not nice,” I can live with that.
Real change has never come from being comfortable.
Look, I’ve been in this industry a long time. Long enough to know that when conversations start hitting nerves, it’s often because there may be some truth.
I know that not everyone who disagrees is defensive.
And I also know that not everyone who’s uncomfortable is guilty.
When pushback comes from those who are “sitting comfortably”, I pay attention.
Not to argue.
Not to snap back.
Just to notice.
Because meaningful change usually starts at the edge of discomfort.
And that’s a place I’m willing to stand.
Stay passionate my friends,
Oreet