You ever have one of those moments where you think, I forgot who the f** I was there for a second? Yeah, same. And let me tell you, that “second” stretched into a couple of years for me. But for you to really understand this story, we need to start from the beginning.
I’ve always been an active person. As a kid, I lived for cheerleading—Pop Warner, middle school, high school, and even college. There’s something about the mix of teamwork, performance, and the smell of the fresh cut grass standing on the sidlines cheering for your team. I also played a little softball, but honestly? My heart belonged to cheerleading. Maybe rooting for others has just always been a part of me. Body image wasn’t a huge issue then. I was naturally thin, but even beyond weight, I had moments where I’d wonder if I was enough, I mean let’s face it, teenage insecurity is basically a rite of passage. Fortunately for me it wasn’t consuming.
After my daughter was born, I got a job at a local gym working in the kids’ area, and the best perk? A free gym membership. I quickly became a group fitness junkie who hit the weights after class. Fitness didn't feel forced; it was fun and part of my daily routine. I enjoyed it, but then life happened. I got a corporate job, started dating my husband, and the pounds crept on, oh you know, about 15, maybe 20. I’d sit around, poke my belly, and joke about how I should probably do something about it... you know, eventually.
And you know, after our first son was born, I knew we wanted another baby, so I figured, Why bother getting in shape just to “mess it up” again? (Great logic, I know.) But after our second son was born, I knew we were done, and it was time to get back to me.
I bought the INSANITY DVDs and absolutely crushed them in my living room. I started eating better, learning about nutrition, and realizing just how much what I put into my body affected my results. It wasn’t about dieting—it was about fueling myself. Fitness became a lifestyle, not something I obsessed over.
In late 2013, I became a group fitness instructor and in 2018 I made two of my biggest dreams a reality: I became a MASTER trainer for INSANITY and we opened Live Free Health and Fitness. Live Free was born out of the passion and drive to create a space where women could come, be seen, be loved, and take time for themselves without guilt. As women, we’re caretakers by nature, constantly pouring into everyone else. I wanted that space to be the one hour they poured into themselves.
But then... 2020. And everything changed.
Running a business during a pandemic? Whew. 10/10 do not recommend. The stress of paying bills while keeping everyone safe was overwhelming. My body responded by basically saying, Nah, we’re done here. One day, my hip started hurting. Then it got worse, like really worse, like crawl off the ground, can’t sit in my car worse. I couldn’t even do child’s pose, and I teach yoga. Medication didn't even touch the pain. My poor husband (who’s a fixer by nature) sat helpless while I cried to my PT, my doctors, and him. I wanted him to fix it too, but this wasn’t something either of us could patch up.
By 2022, our lease was up, and I had to decide: renew for another three years or let it go. I couldn’t do it. I was physically and emotionally exhausted. I was in so much pain that even the idea of keeping the business afloat was unbearable. So, we let it go. And it hurt. I felt like a failure. That studio was my dream. Closing the doors felt like I had let everyone down—my clients, my family, and myself.
If I'm being honest, which if you know me, you know I am going to give it to you straight. I was mad. Mad at myself for not being “strong enough” to keep it going and mad at God for letting something I loved be ripped away from me. I didn’t understand the point of it, and if I’m being real, I’m still not sure I fully do.
I came home and slept. A lot. I tried moving my coaching online, but I was just sad. Depression crept in and if you’ve been there, you know how dark and lonely it can be. On the outside, I looked fine, but on the inside, I was completely broken. I ate whatever, drank whatever, and barely exercised. Thank God fitness was technically still my job, because that’s probably the only reason I kept moving at all. But every time I did, it was a reminder of what I had lost.
At my lowest point, I realized something had to change. The thing that once gave me so much joy had become my biggest source of pain, but deep down, I knew it could also be my way out. Someone once told me that the Live Free logo looked like broken pieces of people being put back together. I didn’t realize how much I’d need that same energy for myself. Bit by bit, I started rebuilding. It wasn’t an overnight transformation. It’s been 2.5 years of small wins, setbacks, and learning to give myself grace.
Piece by piece, I am remembering who the f*** I am.
Today, fitness isn’t just about looking good, but let's keep it real, we want to look good. For me, it’s more about honoring the promises I’ve made to myself. It’s about showing up, even when it’s hard, and rebuilding trust in my own abilities.
My results aren’t just physical. They’re a reflection of discipline, resilience, and self-respect. They remind me that setbacks aren’t failures—they’re stepping stones.
So, if you’re feeling lost, broken, or like you’ve fallen too far off track, I want you to know: you haven’t. You can rebuild. Out of the ashes, beauty rises.
And if you need someone to walk with you on that journey, ya boo, I got you.
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