Working out should not only make us healthier but also release endorphins and be carefree fun. Unfortunately, it never was for me. For decades, I avoided sports like the plague, mostly because I hated locker rooms so much.
Now, as a direct result of my transition, I am finally making peace with who I am and what I have. The more comfortable I feel in my own skin, the more I feel the urge to reclaim the spaces I avoided for so long.
Martial arts studios typically pride themselves on being inclusive. Everyone is welcome as long as they are willing to put in the sweat and the tears needed to learn and advance. But for a trans woman, the reality can be quite different.
I live in a small town of 150,000 people just outside Seattle, WA. The people here are well off and mostly center‑left leaning. But their tolerance fades quickly when sweaty skin is involved.
The first studio offered cardio kickboxing. I attended two free practice classes, but when I tried to sign up, they ghosted me. They stopped responding to texts and ignored my calls, making it clear they did not want me there without ever saying anything openly hostile. Nonetheless, they achieved their objective.
The next studio offered Muay Thai kickboxing. As before, I attended two free practice classes. When I tried to sign up, there was an awkward pause, and then they told me their head coach would reach out. He did, only to explain which bathroom I was supposed to use and which classes I was not allowed to book.1 For the avoidance of doubt, this is a clear case of gender‑based discrimination, which is blatantly illegal in the state of Washington.
Now, what choices did I have? I could have made a big fuzz about it, but that would have meant finding yet another studio. So, I decided to try working with them, as the head coach, after some discussion, seemed reasonably apologetic and willing to find a solution.
But nonetheless, participating in classes turned out to be difficult. When it was time to partner up, I was usually the one left over. Maybe because I was a newbie, maybe because I was older than most others, but most likely because I am trans. And while I cannot necessarily blame the other participants, the coaches certainly failed to create an environment where I would feel welcome.
So, I decided to take one‑on‑one lessons until I could keep up with the other class members. But that was not easy either. Except for the head coach, no other coach was willing to work with me. So, in an attempt to make lemonade out of lemons, I switched to boxing, since that was what the head coach taught.
The coach was indeed fabulous. I learned a lot and enjoyed working with him. But it shouldn’t be that hard, it shouldn’t be that expensive, and every other interaction at the studio felt loaded. Most people looked away when I entered, openly ignoring my presence. Others x-rayed me with their stares or misgendered me.
Admittedly, my experience with daily microaggressions may make me see a message where none was intended. Maybe these people were not bigoted assholes but simply stupid idiots. But it also doesn’t really matter, the result was the same: I never felt welcome there.
So, I tried yet another studio, this time teaching Krav Maga, and attended their monthly LGBTQ+ class. And from the first moment, the experience was like night and day. I walked in as a noob, and people immediately came toward me, saying hi and introducing themselves. There was none of the usual testosterone stink, with young men trying to show off how hard they could hit. People of all sexes, genders, ages, colors, shapes and sizes worked out together. The coaches made sure everyone had a partner and that the partners were a good match. A large sign listed the house rules, making it clear that harassment and unwanted advances would not be tolerated.
In other words, this place did not simply slap an inclusiveness badge on its shirt. It did not pretend to be a safe space while failing to act like one. The owner thought carefully about the environment he wanted to create, and he went the extra mile to build the community around it. And this is not out of pity. Instead, the studio seems to be quite successful, with well-attended classes and plans for future expansion. Unfortunately, it is a 45‑minute drive for me. Yet it is exactly what I need to heal and make peace with myself and, ultimately, the world.
So here is my recommendation: think carefully about the spaces you put yourself in. How far does their inclusiveness really go? Do you walk through the door and feel merely tolerated, or do you feel accepted and welcome to participate? For the sake of your mental health, do not settle for less. Never ever. And when you see a red flag, walk away, because once you scratch the surface you will likely uncover many more.
Heartfelt hugs, Liz
- He actually said I had to use the men’s bathroom and wasn’t allowed to join any women’s classes. ↩︎