This is a home for the slow, heavy, and real work of coming back to our bodies.
This isn’t a fitness blog.
I created THE WEIGHTY because I needed a space that didn’t exist for me. I built it for people like me — folks in eating disorder recovery, for queer and trans lifters, for autistic and neurodivergent people, and for anyone who’s ever felt like the gym wasn’t built with them in mind.
I’m not here to hand out programs or promise six-pack abs. I’m here to think about things like:
What does it mean to take up space without apology?
How does strength feel when it’s not about control?
How can lifting be a practice of care and joy and healing, not punishment?
I’m not a therapist. I’m working towards a certification in trauma-informed weightlifting, and that’s the most important thing in my life right now.
I’m a writer, a lifter, and someone who’s spent years tangled up in body shame, restriction, and dysphoria. I’ve counted calories, skipped meals, trained through fear and grief, and am unlearning more than I thought I could.
I’m still learning and unlearning — through the barbell, through formal education, through my body, through the stories of others. THE WEIGHTY is where I share that process. It’s a space for slowness, softness, and honest conversation. Not advice. Not instruction. Just witnessing, and making meaning together.
Here’s what you’ll find here:
personal essays on strength, recovery, and identity
tools for reflection — journals, prompts, rituals
interviews with queer and trans lifters, therapists, thinkers
curated readings and gentle practices
and maybe, over time, a community
If you’ve ever felt “too much” or “not enough” in a fitness space, you belong here.
If you’re figuring out what strength means outside of diet culture and gender scripts, you belong here.
If you want to build strength and hold grief, you belong here.
Welcome to THE WEIGHTY.