This trainer wants to stop you falling into the postpartum fitness 'trap'
My fitness journey began when I was 24, the same year I gave birth to my son, Anderson, in 2014. About four months after giving birth, I found myself at a postpartum checkup, tears streaming down my face as I filled out a mental health survey. I knew I didn’t feel right. As my doctor discussed treatment options with me, she asked if I exercised, and at that moment, I questioned why that mattered at all when it came to my mental health.
That time in my life was incredibly challenging. I had anticipated feeling pure, unadulterated joy after the birth of my baby. And while I did experience moments of that joy, there were darker feelings there, too. I felt inadequate caring for my son and was haunted by the fear of failing him. I went through moments of detachment from him, each accompanied by an overwhelming sense of shame.
My personal body image struggles were also worse than ever. I couldn't recognise my own postpartum body in the mirror, and I continuously picked myself apart, tearing myself down. I knew there was nothing inherently wrong with my body–I had just given birth to a baby–but when I looked in the mirror, I just felt shame. And I was desperate not to feel that way.
I started getting debilitating panic attacks. The first one struck the evening before my husband, Ryan, had to go back to work. Anderson was just five days old and I knew I would be on my own with our baby the next day. The sun started setting and with it, extreme panic set in. I felt a pressing weight on my chest, my stomach tied in knots, my palms started sweating, and before I knew it, I was hyperventilating and spiralling. It felt like I couldn’t breathe.
Many panic attacks followed that first one. They occurred randomly and frequently in the early months of motherhood, and I kept them hidden because I thought they meant I was failing at my role as a mum. My doctor ultimately referred me to see a therapist, but I refused because I was embarrassed (I felt a lot of stigma around my mental health at that time). My doctor also talked to me about trying medication for my anxiety, but I refused that too. As a last resort, she suggested exercise.
Looking back, it’s clear that I had a really unhealthy mindset when it came to my self-worth and body
Mentally, I was trapped in a web of toxic, self-limiting beliefs, and physically, I felt weak and out of touch with my own body.
From the age of 16 until the birth of my son, I had lived a mostly sedentary lifestyle. I would enthusiastically sign up for a new workout program or routine, only to quit after a few days or weeks, telling myself that I couldn't stick with anything. Fitness for me had always been rooted in the belief that I needed to shrink and take up less space. Dealing with a newborn and a new, postpartum body only exacerbated these feelings. I was willing to try anything that could help me recognise myself again. So, when the doctor suggested exercising for my mental health, I decided to go for it.
When I first started working out, I was amazed at how quickly I started to see benefits— not in how I looked in the mirror, but in how I felt. I realised later, that this was the first time in my adult life that I had ever attempted to exercise out of an effort to help myself heal, rather than hate for my body.
At the beginning, it was as simple as putting Anderson in a stroller and taking a walk around the block
This was my first attempt at regular exercise, with the goal of clearing my head and getting my body moving outside. After a month or two of walking, I googled “home workouts” and printed out some PDFs I found online. These 30-minute workouts included basic exercises like push-ups, lunges, and sit-ups, which I attempted to do in my basement apartment while Anderson napped. I would quietly roll out my yoga mat, borrowed from my mom, and give the workouts a try. I was met with exceeding frustration at first with my inability to physically do what I thought were basic exercises, but still I tried. Slowly, I began to get stronger.
Now, at 35-years-old, I share posts on social media where I'm lifting heavy weights, and people say it’s so boss and badass. But I can tell you that the most intense, gruelling, demanding, and boss-badass workouts I've ever experienced were those postpartum ones, when I could barely do anything. It took everything to get through what I could of those workouts.
But even as I built momentum, I still often felt like a stranger in my own body. I struggled to do a single sit-up, let alone a push-up.
My mindset finally started shifting after a personal epiphany, and an open conversation with my husband
One day, after hearing me take a jab at myself, my husband lovingly sat me down and said it hurt him to hear me speak about myself in such a negative way. He challenged me to say three kind things about myself for every negative thing I said to myself—either in my mind or out loud. He was so sincere, and I committed to him that I would try. It was very uncomfortable at first, but it helped me realise just how bad my negative self-talk was and how deeply I wanted to heal. (Over time, I have also incorporated other practices like meditation, journaling, and gratitude practices.)
I purchased personal trainer Kayla Itsines' BBG workout program (now called “Sweat”), and kept doing my best—this time consciously challenging the negative commentary in my head. I followed the program as best as I could. After a few months, I joined a local gym and discovered the weight training area. Three times a week, I would wake up at 4:45 AM, so I could train before my husband left for school and work, and go to this mental sanctuary. It felt like a gift I was giving to myself.
That first year of my fitness journey was exceptionally personal and private. I fell in love with fitness. The changes I was trying to make in the way I spoke to myself, combined with the physical strength changes and newfound commitment to caring for my health made me feel empowered inside and out. And as I started to feel the mental and emotional benefits, my curiosity about the science behind it grew.
I completed a certified personal trainer course through the National Academy of Sports Medicine, and got my CPT certification. I then went on to get my prenatal fitness and postnatal fitness certifications because I felt there was a lack of information available for new mothers like me, and I wanted to fill that gap.
I started my Instagram account about fifteen months into my fitness journey
There was a lot going on in my life at that time. I was still struggling with my mental health and postpartum challenges while also going through a significant transition away from the church I grew up in. I needed a safe space where nobody cared about my religious beliefs, so I began a fitness Instagram account.
I vulnerably shared personal “transformation” posts of my body at eight weeks postpartum to where I was then on my fitness journey, portraying both my physical transformation in the photos and describing in the caption the deeper changes you couldn’t physically see. The posts quickly began to trend and my account grew to over 50,000 followers within weeks.
I got a lot of negativity and judgment from people in my real life about my posts. I was told by women I considered friends at the time that people were gossiping about me and judging me, and that what I was posting was embarrassing. In hindsight, I understand that when you’re growing in a different direction and shifting away from the person you used to be, it can sometimes be alarming, threatening and uncomfortable for the people around you. But with the support of my husband, I drew a line in the sand for myself, saying, 'I'm going to stand behind this, and I'm not going to hide anymore. I'm going to be proud.'
I doubled down and began sharing more on social media. In January of 2017, I joined Sweat, the workout program co-founded by Kayla Itsines, and in May 2017 the Sweat app launched, debuting my first program. It was one that deeply resonated with me: a post-pregnancy strength training regimen.
These days, I focus on empowering new mothers and creating healing spaces
I try to create an environment where they can remember their inner strength, rather than fixating on the idea of "getting their body back." I hate that phrase.
It's so important for women to remember that their body is art, that it’s their soul’s sacred home, and for them to reclaim movement as the empowering practice it was always meant to be. My entire Redefine Fitness method is based on this idea. In my program, I encourage women to heal their relationship with physical movement, by setting intentions, using affirmations and giving gratitude to their body.
For some, that empowerment means regaining their former strength, for others, they’re building it for the first time. The fact that a woman's body can bring a new life into the world is nothing short of miraculous. And in this delicate and unique phase, it's devastating to see women burdened with shame and unrealistic expectations–whether self-imposed or from society–to "bounce back" or reclaim their pre-baby body. It's crucial for women to be gentle with themselves.
I now have 13 training programs, hosted in Sweat, to help women in different phases of life. I have few regrets in life, but one of them is that I missed the miracle of growing a child and giving birth because I was too busy hating myself and my body throughout that process. Now, I can look back and recognise how my negative self-talk affected me. Over time, I began to realise that the more I cared for my body, and helped it get stronger, the more I learned to love myself and remember that it was worth caring for. That's why I'm so passionate about helping other women feel the same way.
One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned so far is negative self-talk and shame are often the biggest obstacles standing in someone’s way
Life is too short to waste time worrying about what you're putting in your mouth and what you think is wrong with your body. Nothing you consume is as detrimental to your well-being as shaming yourself for your dietary choices or your appearance.
Making a change doesn't have to be overwhelming. It's about adopting an abundance mindset. When I began my fitness journey, I was consuming more Dr. Pepper than water. So, I challenged myself to hydrate with two litres of water daily. I could have my soda if I wanted it, I would simply still drink my water. I stopped labelling certain foods as "bad" and instead focused on making small, incremental changes that could fit into my lifestyle.
It's not a matter of saying, "I can't have this," or "I won't do that." It's about giving yourself more—more compassion and grace. And more nutrients, protein and strength—because you deserve it.
I know that we have a long way to go, but I do feel like I'm seeing a shift happening: More women are recognising that their bodies are worth loving and caring for. And nothing has taught me that more than discovering my own strength after having a baby, and then helping other women do the same.
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