IRON, SWEAT, AND SELF-WORTH: MY FITNESS JOURNEY.

My relationship with my body didn’t start in a gym. It started in a garage.

Back in high school, my brother was the gym guy. Big, strong, always lifting. We didn’t have much, but he made do with what he had—some rusty equipment in a dingy little home setup that reeked of sweat and struggle. Gym culture wasn’t a thing back then, not like it is now. Especially not for dancers. Especially not for someone like me, who was already navigating being feminine in a world that wanted me to be anything but.

But even in those early years, I remember fixating on my chest. I didn’t know much about fitness or muscle groups, but I knew I wanted that “man look.” I didn’t know how to get it—only that I didn’t have it yet.

Fast forward to 2010. I lived on a street called Senneville and used to walk all the way to a 24-hour gym in a nearby town called Pincourt. That walk alone felt like a workout, but I did it. I'd hit up Wendy's beforehand—yeah, I know—and then try to train it off like I knew what I was doing. I didn’t. But what I did know was that I loved the soreness. That ache in my glutes the next day, the fire in my arms, the slight burn in my chest—I became addicted to that feeling. It wasn’t about mirrors or muscle yet. It was about feeling something.

But then came comfort. Success. My ex-husband and I started making money, and with it came a lifestyle of indulgence. Food became a love language, and over time, I gained weight. A lot of it. I wasn’t just heavier—I felt stuck, physically and emotionally. I had lost my rhythm, my movement, my control.

The divorce changed everything.

It wasn’t about looking good to get revenge or proving something to the world. It was about reclaiming my body—my space, my vessel. I shredded the fat. I built muscle. I made my body a priority. And most of all, I started treating it like what it truly is: a temple.

Now, fitness is part of my identity. I work at a gym. I train. I lift. I stretch. I recover. And I surround myself with people who push me to grow—not just physically, but mentally. The environment I used to walk miles to find? I now live in it. It’s full circle.

But if I’ve learned anything, it’s this:

Don’t chase a body you saw on Instagram. Don’t romanticize someone else’s results. Focus on tomorrow. Focus on the small daily wins. Drink water. Move your body. Fuel it. Rest it. And stop talking to yourself like you’re your own enemy.

You don’t have to love your body to start. You just have to respect it enough to try.

Every drop of sweat is a step toward freedom.
And every rep is a reminder—you’re still in control.