By Adrian Jesuthasan

What if I told you that the place many of us go to become healthier, to stay fit, and to become strong can also quietly harm our mental health?

Gyms are often seen as spaces of discipline, strength, and self-improvement. They are where people go to lose weight, gain confidence, and feel better about themselves. And to be clear, fitness has changed lives, including my own. I’ve been part of the fitness community for over 13 years, long before I opened my own gym. I’ve seen people transform physically, emotionally, and socially through movement. But I’ve also seen something we don’t talk about enough. Behind the mirrors, progress photos, and motivational quotes, there is a silent mental struggle happening inside many fitness spaces.

Why People Really Come to the Gym

In my opinion, contrary to popular belief, most people don’t walk into a gym chasing six packs or perfect bodies. They come carrying stress from work, pressure from family, financial worries, relationship problems, and years of feeling or being told “not good enough.” For many everyday men and women, the gym is their one hour of escape from reality, the one place where they feel some sense of control and are saved from their problems.

Fitness gives structure when life feels chaotic. It offers small wins. Lifting a little heavier, moving a little better, and showing up consistently, I believe these moments build confidence. For many people, exercise genuinely helps manage stress, anxiety, and low mood. In that sense, fitness can be powerful therapy if properly used. But somewhere along the way, something changes. The purpose for which they began is lost.

When Strength Turns into Pressure

What starts as a healthy habit can slowly become pressure. People begin comparing themselves to others in the gym. Social media adds fuel to the fire, curated bodies, highlight reels, and unrealistic timelines. Missing workouts starts to feel like failure. Rest brings guilt instead of recovery. I’ve heard these exact words countless times on gym floors from my own clients:
• “I have fallen off the wagon.”
• “I panic if I miss a week.”
• “I don’t feel confident unless I’m lean.”
• “Have I lost progress?”
• “Why is she lifting more than me?”
• “I need to train till I’m the star at this gym.”

These aren’t extreme cases. These are normal people, office workers, students, mothers, young men, tying their self-worth entirely to how they look or how consistently they train. Fitness, instead of supporting their mental health, becomes another source of stress.

The Culture We Don’t Question

Part of the problem lies in gym culture itself. We praise discipline, grind, and toughness often without balance. Overtraining is disguised as dedication. Rest is seen as weakness. The “no excuses”, “Gladiator culture” mentality works for building muscles, but not always for protecting mental well-being. And this silence doesn’t just affect those who go to the gym

Trainers and coaches feel it too. They are expected to always be energetic, always motivated, always in shape. Many work long hours, giving up personal lives, carry the emotional load of clients, and deal with financial and personal stress of their own, yet rarely feel they have permission to admit they are struggling because it would be looked upon as weakness. The industry rewards performance, not vulnerability.

Why Mental Health Is Still Ignored

Mental health in fitness is often ignored for simple reasons: physical results are visible, emotions are not. A before-and-after photo sells better than a conversation about burnout. Many trainers aren’t educated on mental health, and culturally, admitting emotional struggle is still seen as weakness. So people push through. Until they burn out.

The result? Dropouts. Unhealthy relationships with exercise. Identity crises happen when injuries happen or life gets busy. People don’t just quit gyms; they lose a coping mechanism that was never supported properly in the first place.

Redefining What Strength Really Means

If fitness is truly about health, we need to redefine strength.
Strength is not just lifting heavier weights.
Strength is consistency, not perfection.
Strength is resting without guilt.
Strength is training to feel good, not to punish yourself.

A mentally healthy fitness culture allows room for flexibility. It understands that missing a week doesn’t erase progress. That eating normally isn’t a failure. That life happens, and fitness should support life, not control it.

What Needs to Change

For someone who has been in the industry for over 13 years, I believe, for every day fitness enthusiast, the goal should shift from chasing perfection to building sustainability. Train for energy, mood, and long-term health, not just aesthetics. Curate social media carefully. And most importantly, normalize saying, “I’m not okay today.”

For fitness spaces and trainers, change doesn’t require becoming therapists. It starts with language. Checking in about sleep, stress, and recovery. Teaching realistic expectations. Encouraging rest as part of progress. Creating environments where people feel supported, not judged. One thing is clear to me: the people who succeed long term in fitness are not the most extreme; they are the most balanced. Fitness has made many of us physically strong, including myself. Now it’s time to ensure it helps us become mentally well, too. Because strong bodies mean very little if our minds are struggling in silence.