The Hidden Cost of Holding It In: A Personal Journey Through Breathing, Body Image, and Performance

The Hidden Cost of Holding It In: A Personal Journey Through Breathing, Body Image, and Performance

Somewhere around my teenage years, like so many others, I started to become more body conscious. Subtle pressures, from media, peers, and that inner voice we all develop, nudged me toward thinking I needed to be slimmer or at least look slimmer.

One of the unconscious habits that formed from this was sucking in my stomach. It became a part of how I carried myself day to day. It felt like good posture, even discipline. I also believed, back then, that keeping my core “engaged” like this would help strengthen my abs and make me more athletic.

And in some ways, I did become athletic. I’ve trained consistently in endurance sports and martial arts throughout my adult life. I’ve performed well, pushed hard, and taken pride in what I could do with my body.

But what I didn’t realise until much later, into my mid-30s, is that this chronic belly holding was costing me more than I knew.

Years of “holding it in” led to subtle but chronic issues: dysfunctional breathing patterns, tension in my neck and shoulders, an overworked upper chest, and a diaphragm that wasn’t doing the job it was designed to do. Despite all the training I was doing, I had slowly become inefficient in the very thing that underpins everything...

MY BREATHING!!

It wasn’t until I started studying proper breathing mechanics for health in more detail that the puzzle pieces began to fall into place. I realised I wasn’t breathing with my diaphragm. I was breathing with my shoulders, chest, and neck.

And I wasn’t alone this is a surprisingly common pattern, which I see clients displaying every day, especially among people who’ve developed body holding habits in response to appearance based pressure, stress or as a coping mechanism.

I remember, looking back, that learning to breathe properly was uncomfortable at first. Using your diaphragm and the deeper tissues of your core means relaxing the belly. And that feels like pushing your stomach out something I had spent decades avoiding. I’ll admit, I didn't understand the benefits back then, and it felt like I looked bloated or soft, and part of me resisted. But I kept going.

After a few weeks of focused breathing practice, the benefits became undeniable. More oxygen efficiency, better recovery, less upper body tension, more endurance, and even greater presence and calm. That perceived bloated look? It faded into irrelevance, and I actually know from research and from my own experience, that my core is now stronger with better breathing mechanics than with "sucking it in".

Looking back now, I can’t help but wonder: how much better could I have performed if I had learned to breathe properly earlier, maybe in my 20s and not in my 30s? The answer is almost certainly a lot, but it is never too late to start!

This experience taught me a deep lesson, not just about breathing, but about how something as simple as trying to look a certain way can quietly shape our physical patterns for years. It’s also a reminder that strength isn’t about holding in sometimes, it’s about letting go.

My journey is what has pushed me to want to learn more and coach and teach too and I love helping clients, students and friends and family improve their breathing mechanics.

Samuel