Julia Fernandez de Maez was raised by grandparents who believed work, culture and family mattered more than comfort.
The oldest of five siblings, Fernandez de Maez grew up primarily in Taos alongside her brother, Johnathan, while other siblings were raised in Washington state, a contrast she said shaped her strong norteño identity.

Her grandparents, Loren and Bea Maes were pillars in her life. Loren Maes, a Questeño, worked for decades at the Questa Mine, continuing a family legacy that spanned generations. The couple devoted their time to supporting Julia’s passions for dance and athletics, often spending long days outdoors in Amalia fishing and camping.

“My grandparents couldn’t buy opportunities,” she said. “They had to make them, and that’s what they taught me.”

Her family’s roots run deep in northern New Mexico. Her great-grandparents, Dora and Ben Sr., were also influential figures in her childhood. Dora, she recalled, was playful and spirited, taking the grandchildren for ice cream and joking about looking for brujas around Questa and Cerro.

A bracelet gifted by her grandmother, symbolizing five generations of family, remains one of Fernandez de Maez’s most meaningful possessions.

She took an unconventional path early on. Fernandez de Maez did not graduate high school and said she feels no shame in that decision.

Her entrepreneurial spirit ignited at age 10, she was earning money selling Kool-Aid and candy so she could go to the local carnivals. As a teenager, she was cashing checks worth thousands of dollars laying flagstone and concrete as she ran her own business.

“Sometimes kids don’t have the option to go to college,” she said. “So I dropped out and started my own business laying flagstone and concrete when I was 16.”

In her 20s, Fernandez de Maez moved to South Dakota, working in commercial construction as the only woman on job sites. She later earned a Class A CDL and worked as a heavy equipment operator.

Dance, however, remained her anchor.

She grew up immersed in flamenco and traditional dance. When she moved to the Midwest, she found no flamenco community whatsoever.

“There was no flamenco,” she said. “So, I created a space for it.”

She recalls practicing in garages, recording lessons on flash drives, selling them to people, and also traveling across South Dakota, North Dakota, and Texas teaching workshops.

“If there’s no opportunity,” she said, “you make the opportunity.”

After years of building her craft away from home, Fernandez de Maez returned to northern New Mexico. Today, she owns The Body Shop and works as a full-time personal trainer, serving clients across southern Colorado, Eagle Nest, Angel Fire and Santa Fe. She is also a professional belly dancer, performing at regional venues as well as larger stages, including the Santa Fe Opera. She also operates a custom fitness app, coaches clients nationwide. She recently placed second in a bodybuilding competition in Albuquerque and has her heart set on becoming an Olympia bodybuilder.

Her approach to fitness emphasizes accessibility and restoration.

“Growing up, there were opportunities I couldn’t afford,” she said. “So I meet people where they’re at when it comes to personal training. I don’t want people not to have an opportunity to take care of their health, simply because they can’t afford it so I am working to reinvent the whole personal training industry through my work.”

The Body Shop is a locally owned space she describes as community-driven, with much of her business built through word of mouth.

Fernandez de Maez said her work — in fitness, dance and life — is rooted in resilience.

“What it comes down to is believing your vision is within reach,” she said.

Both Loren and Bea Maes died in a house fire in 2023, a loss Fernandez de Maez described as devastating.

“I didn’t know if I was going to make it past that,” she said. “I knew I had to keep pushing forward.”

One of her final memories with her grandparents came just weeks before their deaths, when she took them on a drive to Red River, stopping at Shotgun Willie’s to listen to her grandpa Loren recount stories from the mine and recall childhood outings.

“It felt like being a child again,” she said.

Her grandparents used to call her “Juliana la Chapulina” — the grasshopper — because she was always moving, always full of energy.

“That energy comes from my lineage,” she said. “It stays with me. Everything I do comes from them.”