What is Trauma-Informed Fitness?

Written By Tess Ball

In 2017, I opened my first fitness studio—Fitness for Introverts. It was explicitly trauma-informed, shame-free, and beginner-friendly. At the time, I’d already taught at several gyms and yoga studios that seemed fine on paper.

However, they all often lacked:

  • Clear consent policies

  • Gender-inclusive programming

  • Size-friendly marketing

They put the burden on neurodivergent and disabled clients to request accommodations, rather than making them the default. It became obvious that traditional fitness approaches were either clueless or just didn’t give a damn about creating safer, more inclusive spaces.

As someone with C-PTSD and neurodivergence, I got curious, rolled up my sleeves, and built the studio I personally needed.

When I opened Fitness for Introverts, I chose every element with intention. There was a calming mural, soft lights, plenty of plants, and a faint tea tree smell that welcomed clients when they walked in. I offered tea and water, and generally didn’t play music.

Yet I realized, as comfortable as the studio was, that was just a tiny part of the overall experience I offered. Trauma-informed coaching is certainly impacted by the space, but at its heart is how you show up in relationship with your clients.

Trauma-informed fitness isn’t just a buzzword—it’s a transformative approach that challenges harmful norms and reimagines what the fitness industry can be. You might be wondering how to honor diverse bodies, reduce shame, and help clients find healing in movement rather than punishment.

What is trauma?

Before we dive into action, let’s establish a shared understanding of what trauma is—and how it can surface for clients in the fitness world.  According to Merriam-Webster, trauma is defined as “an injury (such as a wound) to living tissue caused by an extrinsic agent, a disordered psychic or behavioral state resulting from severe mental or emotional stress or physical injury, or an emotional upset.”

In practice, that means trauma can manifest in countless ways—physically, mentally, and emotionally. Trauma-informed fitness recognizes that many (if not most) people carry past experiences that influence how they relate to exercise and their bodies. By acknowledging these histories and realities, you can build trust and safety, leading to better client outcomes and a more meaningful experience.

As a coach, it’s crucial you have the mindset and tools to handle potential scenarios effectively and compassionately. 

This guide will walk you through the history, the core concepts, and the next steps to help you incorporate trauma-informed practices into your own coaching.

Here’s what to expect

  • Tracing Fitness Origins & Honoring Key Voices for Change – From militaristic influences to radical fat liberation

  • Defining Trauma-Informed Fitness & Your Role In It – Why it matters more than ever

  • Your Next Step – Linking you to a detailed 5-part series to jumpstart your trauma-informed coaching journey

If you’re curious about how to create a more inclusive, respectful environment—one that truly serves your clients’ well-being—keep reading.

And if you’re ready to dive into the practical side, I’ll direct you to Part 1 of my 5-part series at the end.

The Political Origin Story of the Fitness Industry

Before we talk about where we’re going, we need to understand where we’ve been. Modern fitness culture didn’t evolve in a vacuum—it has deep roots in militarism, shaping the way we think about movement, discipline, and physical capability. If you’ve ever heard a trainer bark

“no pain, no gain” or push people to “leave it all on the gym floor,” that’s not just a catchy slogan—it’s a reflection of fitness’ origins in military training, designed to produce stronger, tougher, more obedient bodies for combat.

How Militarism & “Rugged Individualism” has Shaped Fitness Culture

The connection between fitness and militarism dates back centuries. In ancient Greece, physical training was central to military preparation—Spartan boys were taken from their families at a young age to endure brutal training regimens designed to make them warriors. The Roman Empire had similar systems, where strength, endurance, and obedience were emphasized above all else.

Fast forward to the 19th and 20th centuries, and we see figures like Friedrich Jahn, a German nationalist who developed Turnen, an early form of organized gymnastics meant to prepare young men for military service. His ideas spread across Europe and influenced figures like Per Henrik Ling in Sweden and Francisco Amorós in Spain, both of whom developed military-influenced physical education programs that laid the foundation for modern fitness.

In the U.S., this militaristic approach gained momentum during times of war. World War I and II highlighted concerns about the physical readiness of American soldiers, leading to greater emphasis on structured fitness programs in schools and the military. This culminated in the 1950s when a study revealed that American children were significantly less fit than their European counterparts (many of whom still had mandatory physical training tied to military service).

The Presidential Fitness Test and the Push for Military-Style Training

In response, President Dwight Eisenhower established the President’s Council on Youth Fitness in 1956, which later evolved into the President’s Council on Physical Fitness and Sports under John F. Kennedy. The Presidential Fitness Test—launched in schools across America—was explicitly designed to assess children’s physical capabilities in ways that mirrored military readiness. Tasks like pull-ups, timed sit-ups, and the infamous mile run weren’t about cultivating a love for movement—they were about building toughness, endurance, and competition.

For many kids, these tests were a source of shame, reinforcing the idea that fitness was about performance, not personal well-being. When someone asks who I typically train, I often joke that I work best with people traumatized by the Presidential Fitness Test. While it usually gets a laugh, unfortunately it’s the truth. The amount of conversations that I’ve had with clients about the test’s deep-rooted harm is heartbreaking and all too common.

This mindset continued into the rise of commercial gyms in the latter half of the 20th century. Figures like Jack LaLanne (himself a former military man) and Charles Atlas promoted the idea of fitness as a way to build strength, discipline, and dominance—values deeply tied to military and hyper-masculine ideals. The boom of bodybuilding in the ‘70s and ‘80s, led by figures like Arnold Schwarzenegger, reinforced the idea that the “ideal” body was one of extreme physical prowess, often achieved through punishing routines.

How This Creates Barriers for Trauma-Informed Fitness

This history makes the shift toward trauma-informed fitness an uphill battle. Many mainstream fitness spaces still prioritize intensity over sustainability, compliance over autonomy, and external validation (PRs, weight loss, aesthetics) over internal connection. The remnants of military-style training show up in:

  • The language of fitness: Terms like “warrior,” “beast mode,” and “no excuses” glorify pain and push past bodily signals.

  • Drill sergeant coaching styles: Many fitness programs (especially boot camps and HIIT classes) emphasize pushing limits over self-awareness.

  • Shame-based motivation: The belief that only the toughest, leanest, or most disciplined deserve to be called “fit.”

  • One-size-fits-all programming: The idea that if you can’t keep up, you’re just not working hard enough which is a moral failing.

Trauma-informed fitness disrupts this model by centering consent, autonomy, and nervous system regulation—things that traditional fitness models often neglect or even outright resist. Instead of pushing past discomfort at all costs, it encourages people to listen to their bodies, move in ways that feel good, and redefine success outside of prescribed performance metrics.

While fitness in the mid-20th century was largely shaped by militarism, discipline, and rigid body ideals, the 1970s saw a powerful pushback—one that laid the foundation for many of the body-positive and trauma-informed approaches we see today.

1970s Fat Liberation Movement

By the late 1960s and early 70s a growing resistance was taking shape. The Fat Liberation Movement emerged as a direct challenge to the industries profiting off body shame, calling for a radical rejection of diet culture, body shame, and the belief that fitness was only for the thin, strong, or able-bodied.

The movement was born out of opposition to the growing medicalization and pathologization of fatness. In 1973, Judy Freespirit and Aldebaran co-wrote the Fat Liberation Manifesto, a foundational text that rejected the idea that fat people needed to be “fixed” through diets, fitness, or medical intervention. Around the same time, they helped form The Fat Underground, a radical feminist group that connected fatphobia to sexism, capitalism, and medical oppression. These activists weren’t just challenging discrimination—they were demanding a complete redefinition of health, one that prioritized autonomy and rejected shame-based narratives.

They also questioned the way fitness and movement were framed. Instead of seeing exercise as a tool for weight loss or discipline, they advocated for movement as a right—something that should be accessible and enjoyable for people of all sizes, without pressure to shrink their bodies. This laid the groundwork for concepts like Health at Every Size (HAES), intuitive movement, and size-inclusive fitness, reshaping how we think about health beyond weight or aesthetics.

Today, as we push for trauma-informed fitness spaces, we owe a lot to these early activists. Their work challenged the militaristic, punishment-based fitness culture of the past and gave us the tools to build something better—something rooted in choice, respect, and inclusion.

As nutritionist and counselor Dominique Adair, MS, RD, explains:

“By avoiding restrictive diets, prioritizing mental health, supporting personalized goals aligned with a client’s values, and reducing weight bias in healthcare, the goal is to empower individuals to engage in healthy practices without shame or pressure to meet specific weight targets.”

So, why does this matter for you as a coach? Focusing on movement quality and overall well-being, rather than weight loss, can significantly boost client retention and trust. It’s time to ask yourself: Are you marketing your programs around ‘fixing flaws’? If so, consider shifting that focus to building confidence, joy, and resilience instead.

2000s Bring About Key Principles of Trauma-Informed Care

In 2001, trauma researchers Maxine Harris and Roger Fallot introduced the idea of trauma-informed care (TIC). They believed that instead of only looking at a person’s current problems, it’s important to think about how past trauma or violence might be affecting them. Their work highlighted three key priorities: integrating routine trauma screening and assessment, ensuring that care practices do not re-traumatize individuals, and fostering awareness of trauma’s complex biological, psychological, and social impacts.

Since then, there has been a growing amount of research on trauma-informed care, and there are several frameworks for applying it. First, I’ll share several sources that have shaped my understanding of the topic, and then we’ll talk about some of the core principles.

  • If you like reading peer-reviewed articles, Trauma-Informed Practice in Physical Activity Programs for Young People: A Systematic Review, authored by four researchers out of Australia, is a good place to start. If you want the high level info, keep reading.

  • In 2014 in the United States, Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) published their Concept of Trauma and Guidance for a Trauma-Informed Approach manual. This manual, aimed at policy makers, care providers, public health officials, and organizations, outlined 6 key principles for a trauma-informed approach, as well as how an organization can implement them. While not specifically fitness-related, I think it can be valuable to understand how it’s talked about across sectors, especially where there’s government oversight.

  • In Canada, there are several research groups that have shaped this conversation, especially as it relates to health and movement. Their work expanded the concept of trauma-informed care to include those impacted by interpersonal violence.

The 4 principles of TVIC are below. I’ve included my two cents on how they’re applied in my own practice.

  1. Trauma-awareness – Recognize and address historical trauma of marginalized people and those who have experienced violence. Believe clients, affirm them, and establish policies and processes that are responsive to those needs.

  2. Safety and trustworthiness – Ensure (to the extent that you can) that your your environment is both physically and psychologically safe for coaches and clients. Provide clear information and expectations, and respect clients’ privacy.

  3. Opportunity for choice collaboration and connection – Actively minimize power differences between you and your clients, and invite them to shape their fitness path alongside you through shared decision-making, goal-setting, etc.

  4. A strengths-based and capacity building approach – Help clients identify their strengths and desires, and provide options tailored to the individual. Teach skills that help clients build capacity, while allowing sufficient time for them to move through the learning process.

Reimagining Fitness

The convergence of accessibility legislation, weight-inclusive frameworks, holistic coaching models, and the ongoing debates about bodily autonomy has brought us to a pivotal moment in 2025. We now have the chance to reimagine fitness as something far more inclusive, holistic, and celebratory. At its core, trauma-informed fitness is about honoring the lived experience of your clients and their bodies, rather than fixing or shrinking them.

Where we’re at in 2025

In the last few years, the fitness industry has faced a cultural reckoning—one that’s challenging old-school ideas of who “belongs” in these spaces and how people should move their bodies. Social movements have exposed how systemic oppression—especially anti-Blackness, anti-fatness, ableism, and transphobia—still seeps into workout settings and gym culture.

The Pandemic’s Lasting Divide and the Rise of “Medical Freedom”

The COVID-19 pandemic left the fitness industry fractured, and years later, the ideological divide continues. Some gyms doubled down on public health measures, while others leaned into “personal freedom” rhetoric, resisting mandates and shifting toward a more individualistic approach to wellness.

This tension has only grown with the rise of the “medical freedom” movement, which challenges not just vaccines and masks but broader conversations about autonomy in health and wellness. While bodily autonomy is foundational to trauma-informed fitness, there is also a responsibility to acknowledge how our choices impact others. The question remains: Can we foster an industry where personal agency and collective care coexist?

The Return of “Heroin Chic” and the Ozempic Boom—But Also, a Pushback

History repeats itself, and 2025 has made it clear that we are once again cycling through a dangerously thin aesthetic. The resurgence of “heroin chic,” fueled by the rapid popularization of GLP-1 drugs like Ozempic, has brought us back to an era of extreme weight loss glorification. This wave, like the diet fads of the past, reinforces disordered behaviors under the guise of "health."

However, amidst this repetition, there is progress—BMI, long weaponized against bodies that fall outside a narrow, white, Eurocentric ideal, is finally being questioned within the medical community. While the battle against anti-fat bias is far from over, this shift creates space for a more inclusive and nuanced approach to health, one that prioritizes metabolic and mental well-being over arbitrary numbers on a scale.

The Fight for Gender-Affirming Healthcare and Trans Inclusion in Fitness

At a time when gender-affirming healthcare is becoming harder to access in many places, the fitness industry should be a refuge for all bodies. Instead, it has become yet another battleground.

CrossFit’s recent decision to ban trans athletes from competing is just one example of how exclusion is being reinforced under the guise of “fairness.” The debate over trans participation in sports rages on, but what often gets lost in the conversation is the real harm these policies cause—pushing trans individuals out of fitness spaces altogether. The erasure of trans bodies in fitness is a direct reinforcement of trauma, pushing people away from movement spaces that should welcome them.

The good news? More trainers, gyms, and communities are stepping up to create spaces that affirm and celebrate all identities. The fight isn’t over, but the resistance is growing.

The Ongoing Battle for Disability Access in Fitness

For all the talk about inclusivity, the fitness industry still has a long way to go when it comes to accessibility. Many gyms remain physically and socially unwelcoming to disabled folks—whether it’s a lack of adaptive equipment, inaccessible spaces, or trainers who don’t know how to modify exercises. On top of that, there’s the persistent ableist messaging that equates fitness with overcoming disability rather than embracing movement in a way that works for every body. But the tide is turning. More disabled athletes, trainers, and advocates are demanding change, pushing for universal design in fitness spaces, and proving that accessibility isn’t an afterthought—it’s a necessity.

On a policy level, we’re seeing some long-overdue changes. As recently as December 2024, a proposed bill by Rep. Mark DeSaulnier (D–CA) mandates that gyms provide equipment accommodating individuals with disabilities, ensuring equitable access to fitness facilities.
This legislation—if enacted—would finally push fitness spaces to stop treating accessibility as an afterthought.

Each of these issues reflects the deep-rooted trauma that lingers in fitness culture—but they also highlight opportunities for change. By rejecting outdated, oppressive ideals and embracing a more inclusive, trauma-informed approach, we can create a fitness industry that fosters community and healing rather than harmful beauty standards and limitations on access.

Why this matters for you as a coach: Don’t wait until the law forces change. When you combine these pressures—rising demands for inclusive gym spaces, legislative debates on healthcare, and evolving industry trends—it’s clear that trauma-informed fitness isn’t just a nice-to-have. 

It’s urgent. 

Your Role in The Movement

As a personal trainer, your role goes beyond simply designing workouts or tracking progress. You’re creating an environment where your clients feel safe, supported, and heard. This means recognizing the limits of your expertise, knowing when to refer clients to other professionals, and embracing the broader scope of their health journey—mental, emotional, and physical.

As a personal trainer, you are not a therapist, nutritionist, or medical provider (unless you hold specific qualifications in those areas). Trauma-informed coaching requires knowing your boundaries and working within your scope of practice.

 

IN Your Scope as a Trainer:

  • If a client discloses that they have panic attacks during the intake process, ask how they’d like you to support them if that happens in class.

  • Practice ongoing consent: [always!] ask before offering hands-on cues.

  • Learn about the history of anti-Blackness in the fitness industry (e.g., read Fearing the Black Body: The Racial Origins of Fat Phobia or The Body Is Not An Apology).

  • Keep a handy list of referrals: therapists, eating-disorder specialists, inclusive dietitians, etc. When people’s needs fall outside your wheelhouse, having a list of trusted experts allows you to refer clients appropriately and stay within your scope.

  • Ask about pronouns rather than assuming someone’s gender.

  • Be mindful of your own boundaries—no trauma-dumping your personal experiences on your clients.

  • Educate yourself on the Fat Liberation Movement, body neutrality, and Health at Every Size so you’re not unintentionally reinforcing the same old harmful narratives.

OUT of Your Scope as a Trainer:

  • Diagnosing mental health conditions.

  • Asking questions about a client’s trauma if it isn’t directly related to their fitness needs or goals.

  • Creating treatment plans for mental health conditions, eating disorders, or injuries.

  • Playing the role of an unqualified therapist by listening to deep trauma stories you don’t have the training (or emotional bandwidth) to hold.

 

Staying clear on what you can and can’t do is incredibly liberating. It helps you set healthy boundaries, avoid overcommitting, and direct your energy toward the work you're truly qualified to perform—ensuring your clients receive the best support possible without any sense of overreach.

Lastly, when you collaborate with other healthcare providers—whether they’re mental health professionals, registered dietitians, or doctors—you create a more integrated, holistic experience for your clients. By fostering these partnerships within your clients' care teams, you ensure they receive well-rounded support across all aspects of their well-being.

Final Takeaway: The Work Is Ongoing

Trauma-informed fitness is a continuous journey. It’s not about completing a certification and filing it away; it’s a commitment to ongoing learning, reflection, and evolution in how we coach. You have the opportunity to dismantle harmful narratives about who “belongs” in fitness and to create spaces where everyone is celebrated, respected, and empowered.

Next Steps

If you’re looking for practical steps, I’ve got you covered. I created a 5-part blog series that walks you through the fundamentals:

  • Initial Consult (Start Here) – How to set a welcoming, supportive tone from the start

  • Program Design – Building flexible, empathetic routines that honor diverse needs

  • Cueing – Communicating boundaries and empowerment through language

  • Policies – Fostering trust with transparent membership and coaching policies

  • Marketing – Avoiding shame-based appeals and attracting clients who share your values

And as always…

Lift heavy, love each other well, and keep doing the hard, meaningful work!

—Tess

Tess Ball https://www.heytessball.com
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