Abuse to Strength: Doing “Nothing” and Finding Everything

Over the festive period, I did something wildly out of character.

I did… nothing.

And I don’t mean nothing nothing. I mean resting. Relaxing. Breathing. Moving my body because it felt good, not because I was trying to survive another crisis, fix another problem, or carry everyone else on my back.

I went to the gym.
A lot.

Not in a “new year, new me” toxic nonsense way — but in a this feels like coming home way.

Reconnecting With a Version of Me I Thought I’d Lost

What a lot of people don’t know is that I’m actually a qualified fitness instructor. I qualified over 10 years ago, back when I thought that was the path I’d walk forever.

And then… something happened during my training.

One day, I’ll talk about it.
Today is not that day.

What matters is this: that experience shut a door I loved. I walked away from fitness, not because I didn’t care — but because sometimes survival reroutes your entire life.

Over the years, abuse, stress, trauma, and cortisol did what they do best: they settled into my body. Add three kids, years of being in fight-or-flight, and the pressure of constantly having to “be strong”, and suddenly the gym didn’t feel like a sanctuary anymore — it felt like punishment.

Until recently.

My Body Isn’t 20 Anymore — and Thank God for That

Here’s the truth Instagram rarely shows you:

My body doesn’t respond well to just weights anymore.
And that’s not failure — that’s biology, hormones, age, and lived experience.

So I started doing barre and Pilates alongside weight training.

And wow.

Strength without smashing myself.
Core without chaos.
Movement that supports my nervous system instead of overwhelming it.

The irony? These are two forms of movement that so many women are priced out of. Locked behind boutique studios, aesthetic branding, and memberships that quietly say “this isn’t for you.”

That didn’t sit right with me. At all.

Abuse to Strength Isn’t About Bouncing Back — It’s About Rebuilding

The Abuse to Strength series was never about glow-ups or revenge bodies or proving anything to anyone.

It’s about:

• Relearning safety in your own body

• Strength after years of being made small

• Reconnecting with joy after control

• Moving because it feels good, not because you hate yourself

Over the festive period, as I slowed down, I remembered something important:

I don’t just love the gym.
I love teaching.

So I’ve decided I’m going to start sharing online fitness classes for women — accessible, inclusive, no bullshit, no “shrink yourself” energy.

And I’ll be showing something you rarely see on Instagram:

• What a body actually looks like after years of abuse

• What cortisol does

• What motherhood changes

• What healing really looks like — not filtered, not posed

No flat-tummy lies.
No toxic motivation.
No “before and after” nonsense.

Just honesty. Strength. And movement as a tool for reclamation.

This Is Just the Beginning

Abuse to Strength is about taking back what was interrupted.
Your body. Your power. Your pace.

I didn’t do “nothing” over the holidays.

I rested.
I remembered.
I rebuilt — quietly.

And now, I want you to come on the journey with me.

For the next 12 weeks, we can work out together.
We can learn from each other.
We can relax, reclaim, and rebuild — together.

You can heal loudly.
Or silently.
As long as you’re truthful to yourself.

Be weird.
I’m weird too.

I have ADHD.
I’m autistic.
I overshare. I undershare.
I believe in ghosts, psychics, and that manifestation works — sometimes beautifully, sometimes messily.

And if you’ve ever wondered where your village is…

It’s right here.

Dope Soul Village isn’t just a marketplace for women by women.
It’s community.
It’s healing.
It’s a space for women — and every single one of her many, layered, contradictory, powerful personalities.

You belong here. 🖤