I Tried to Learn Aerial Online—Here’s What Was Missing (So I Built Aerial Foundations)
The first time I inverted on an aerial hammock, I wasn’t chasing a cool trick.
I was trying to heal my lower back.
I’d done the physical therapy. I’d tried chiropractic. I was still searching for real relief—something that didn’t just “manage” the pain, but actually changed how my body felt day to day. That’s when I found inversion therapy.
At the time, the only place I could hang a yoga trapeze (that parachute-like material with two sets of handles) was from a pull-up bar in my doorway. Not exactly a dream setup—but the relief was life changing. I remember thinking: Wait… this could be more than stretching. This could be strength. This could be a whole practice.
So I did what most people do when they’re curious and don’t have access: I went to YouTube.
When you try to learn aerial online, you start by searching for relief—and end up in the highlight reel
Back then I lived in the Boston area, and I didn’t have a real place to hang the trapeze where I had room to move. I was limited. But I kept searching anyway—trying to piece together gentle strength routines and mobility work that made sense for my body.
Then I moved out to the suburbs, and suddenly I had a tall garage. I could finally rig with space. And once again, I turned to YouTube for stretching and fitness routines.
But this time, the deeper I searched, the more I got pulled into a whole world that looked like Cirque du Soleil. Drops that flung forward. Climbs I’d never seen before. People practicing without mats.
And I’ll never forget one popular aerial yoga teacher casually saying to “put some pillows down so you feel safe” before trying a drop.
Pillows.
That was my first real red flag—though I didn’t fully understand it yet.
Because I was in love with the feeling of moving on the fabric. And it was helping my back again while I renovated a house. I wanted more. I wanted to learn for real.
I wanted in-person training… but life (and logistics) pushed me back online
So I searched for in-person classes… and what I found was either expensive circus training or schedules that didn’t fit my life at the time. I wasn’t ready to commit to driving and weekly classes in the middle of a renovation.
So once again, I went back online—YouTube, Google, and eventually paid programs.
The first paid aerial course I bought? I quit in two weeks.
I was so excited. I found a huge course, bought it immediately, learned about longer fabrics and aerial sling, and I bought those too.
I knew nothing about rigging. Nothing about loads or force. I bought gear from Amazon without understanding what I was actually trusting my body to.
(Thankfully, my partner understood force and engineering and built me a strong low rig to learn on—and reinforced our garage rigging. Without that, I honestly don’t want to think about what could’ve happened.)
Then I opened the program… and I was immediately lost.
The classes labeled “beginner” were way harder than I expected. I didn’t understand the terminology, so I was guessing. They said they included strengthening exercises for each move, so I tried those too—but the transition from Backpack to Inversion still didn’t make sense.
It felt impossible. Like my body was failing.
So I quit.
The next program wasn’t better—just bigger (and more confusing)
This one had hundreds of videos. Some were yoga. Some were sling. Some were fabric (split silks). And I would scroll and scroll trying to figure out what I was “supposed” to do next.
Most of the sling entries started with the sling up and over (above the head) into a flip I didn’t understand. The move would be demoed once with barely any instruction beyond “here’s what it looks like.”
No coaching for what goes wrong. No “if you’re struggling, try this.” No sequence. No path.
I reached out to the teacher for help, and three weeks later she replied, “Just search for what you’re looking for and you won’t have to scroll.”
I told her I had already tried that.
Her response? She didn’t have any other advice.
I cancelled.
Then I found a program with gorgeous videos… and unsafe “beginner” choices
This one was beautifully filmed—outfits matching the silk, everything aesthetically perfect. The instruction was more organized, but then I saw “Skin the Cat” listed as a beginner move.
If you have an athletic background, you know exactly why that made my stomach drop.
Skin the Cat without proper shoulder warm-up and strengthening can tear a shoulder. And in the intermediate section, complex moves were shown in a little over a minute—slow motion with voice-over cues, but still so fast that I had to climb up and down repeatedly just to decode what was happening. Some sequences had seven different parts.
I was doing more guessing than training.
And I realized something important:
Online aerial didn’t just feel confusing. It felt like it was setting people up to get hurt.
So I stopped trying to teach myself—and started driving
I gave up on learning alone and began traveling over an hour to different studios to train. I loved it so much that I started thinking about certification.
When I asked teachers how they learned, most had done a 30–50 hour course… and then they were learning from Instagram.
In many classes, there were about five “core” students who had trained with the instructor for years. They were catered to. Everyone else—the people just trying to learn safely—were mostly watching.
I even saw students showing instructors Instagram videos and the whole class trying to “work it out” in real time.
Then I got certified, started teaching… and saw the same problems up close.
The unsafe practices weren’t just online
Once I started teaching at a studio, I realized quickly that the unsafe practices weren’t just online.
That same drop the YouTube teacher told people to try with pillows? I saw it being taught in person.
Most students only had a yoga mat—because that’s what the teacher used—while being encouraged to do Salto.
Yes. Salto. A forward drop that people have been seriously injured from, and that has even caused a death.
And it’s taught so frequently to beginners that it’s almost treated like a standard—when in reality, it should only be practiced on specific rigging, with large mats, and after months (if not years) of preparation.
In that class, I saw too many falls.
Why am I telling you all of this?
Because if you’re entering the aerial world—especially online—I want you to know what you might run into.
If you’re buying a program because you don’t have access financially, geographically, or schedule-wise…
…you deserve better.
What was missing (and what I wish every online aerial program included)
If you’re trying to learn aerial hammock online, here’s what I now believe you deserve from the very beginning:
A true beginner pathway (what to do first, what to do next, and what to skip for now)
Prerequisites + progressions (so your body is prepared, not pressured)
Clear coaching cues (what it should feel like, and what it should not feel like)
Safety exits + “what to do if it goes wrong” (because aerial is not forgiving when you guess)
Strength + mobility that matches the skill (not random conditioning that doesn’t translate)
A way to get feedback (so you’re not training in a vacuum)
What I built instead: Aerial Foundations
That’s why I built Aerial Foundations—an online aerial sling/hammock membership designed for real people who want to learn safely, steadily, and with confidence.
Inside, everything is built around:
A systematic progression: Foundations → Level 1 → Level 2 → Level 3
My Activation Method (alignment + engagement cues before every skill)
Follow-along teaching (demo + coached reps), both sides, and common mistakes
Video feedback so you’re not guessing—and so you can progress with support
If you want a clear path that doesn’t rely on guessing
You don’t need more random videos. You need a system.
Start here: /start-here