When I launched Venus Fitness & Lifestyle in 2006, my goal was simple: to help others rebuild their confidence and strength through fitness—just as it had helped me. But the truth is, fitness wasn’t just about getting stronger; it was about survival. It became my way back to myself.
After escaping an abusive relationship, I was left with more than just emotional scars. PTSD crept into every part of my life—panic attacks, hypervigilance, a sense of disconnection from my own body. My therapist knew that traditional talk therapy alone wouldn’t be enough. She validated my experience but also recognized that I needed more. You don’t talk yourself into trauma, and you can’t simply talk yourself out. Medication wasn’t an option either—not for someone who had already used substances to numb the pain. I needed something different.
Movement became my medicine. In the beginning, it was just about getting through the day, finding a moment of peace in the chaos. But over time, fitness transformed into a tool—not just for managing triggers and symptoms, but for reclaiming my body, my confidence, my power. It grounded me in the present when my mind wanted to drag me back to the past. It gave me control in a life that had once felt completely out of my hands. More than anything, it reminded me that I was still here. Still fighting. Still worthy.
But the fitness industry is loud, and with extreme trends, its has been hard for me to find my voice. Initially I stayed behind the scenes, avoiding social media for privacy, for fear. It wasn’t until 2015, with a little push from a marketing-savvy friend, that I stepped into the digital space—slowly, cautiously.
Then, life threw me another curveball: motherhood. My priorities shifted from personal training to snack breaks and stroller runs. Somewhere between social media, sleepless nights, and the joy (and exhaustion) of family life, my original vision blurred. The anger that once fueled me faded, and with it, my clarity. I found myself pulled in different directions—chasing personal bests, getting caught up in aesthetics, and seeking validation in ways that didn’t align with my deeper purpose.
I never wanted fitness to be my full-time job—it’s my safe space, my therapy. But somewhere along the way, I lost sight of my why. The pressure to perform, to push, to be more took its toll. I had to remind myself that my worth isn’t measured in PRs, how I look in a photo, or what my qualifications are. My why has never been about accomplishments aesthetics or accolades.
The reality? I don’t have a university degree in fitness. What I do have is a provincially recognized certification and over 20 years of lived experience in commitment, discipline, and resilience—plus plenty of trial and error. I know what it feels like to rebuild from rock bottom. I know how movement can be a lifeline when words fail. And that’s why I’m here—to lead, to support, to inspire.
This year, I’m coming back to my roots. Venus Fitness isn’t about aesthetics or accomplishments—it’s about movement, healing, and growth. It’s about building a space that uplifts and empowers, without the pressure. It’s about using fitness not just as a workout, but as a tool for mental and emotional well-being.
So here’s to a new chapter—one with clarity, authenticity, and a little more laughter. And if I get lost along the way… at least I’ll be getting my steps in.
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