This Girl Can's Powerful Portrait of Exclusion and Belonging 🏃♀️💪🏾🧠
In a culture where fitness imagery often portrays idealised bodies in pristine studios, This Girl Can's latest campaign phase cuts through with raw authenticity. The movement that transformed how we view women in physical spaces is marking its 10th anniversary by confronting an uncomfortable truth: Belonging remains a privilege not equally distributed.
Their striking new research reveals that only one in ten women from lower-income backgrounds feel they completely belong in physical activity spaces. For a campaign that has inspired nearly 4 million women to embrace movement, this statistic serves as both a celebration of progress and a sobering reminder of work unfinished.
The 'Belonging Starts With Inclusion' initiative launched this week with a powerful visual statement—a floor mural in Birmingham featuring portraits of three women: Tamiah, Maria, and Christine.
Christine, at 63, navigates the landscape of physical activity with the additional layer of joint pain and arthritis. Her relationship with movement evolved after a fall in London tore her rotator cuff, transforming her once-routine gym visits into hesitant explorations. The classes that might accommodate her changing body remain elusive—a reflection of how fitness spaces often conceptualise an idealised participant rather than the diverse bodies that seek movement.
For Tamiah, a 23-year-old full-time mother from Birmingham, the journey back to physical activity after childbirth weaves through unexpected complexities. Her C-section delivery still causes discomfort fifteen months later, while caring for her son with Down's syndrome requires constant attentiveness. Her story illuminates how motherhood—particularly for young mothers with additional care responsibilities—creates layers of exclusion from traditional fitness environments.
Maria's narrative speaks to cultural expectations and chronic illness. The 24-year-old Manchester resident's South Asian Muslim background emphasised academic achievement and family formation, with little space for physical well-being. Her Crohn's disease diagnosis at age ten further distanced her from movement, creating a physical and emotional journey back to her body's capabilities. Her experience of seeking women-only spaces reflects how cultural sensitivity becomes not merely a preference but a necessity for meaningful inclusion.
Their full-length images, surrounded by hundreds of verbatim quotes, transform personal barriers into public conversation. This installation, aptly titled "Some Barriers Are Too Big to Tackle Alone," was designed and illustrated by artist Paris Anthony-Walker, whose work beautifully captures the intersection of personal narrative and structural exclusion. The installation invites passersby to contribute their own experiences, creating a living document of collective struggle.
What makes this campaign particularly resonant is its nuanced approach to intersectionality. The research delves into how identity layers compound exclusion—Black women, Asian Muslim women, pregnant women, new mothers, and older women face uniquely complex obstacles. As Maria's portrait illustrates, the scarcity and prohibitive cost of women-only spaces create particular challenges for Muslim women, while 63-year-old Christine's story highlights how age-appropriate programming remains elusive.
Nearly half of the women surveyed cite cost and motivation as primary barriers, while one in six have felt so unwelcome that they abandoned activities entirely. The emotional toll is significant—one in ten have cried about their exclusion experiences. These aren't merely statistics but lived realities that the campaign refuses to sanitise.
What's particularly compelling about this evolution of This Girl Can is its shift from inspiration to structural change. Rather than placing the onus on individual women to overcome systemic barriers, the campaign acknowledges that some obstacles require collective action. For Black women specifically, the research highlights the importance of classes featuring music from their culture (24%), alongside women-only sessions (28%) and assistance with equipment (28%)—recognition that cultural resonance creates deeper pathways to belonging. Meanwhile, older women emphasise the need for gentle, low-impact classes (36%) that accommodate changing bodies and joint mobility—a simple yet transformative shift that could dramatically increase participation.
Kate Dale, This Girl Can's director, frames the issue with appropriate urgency: "The barriers these women face are wide-ranging, complex, and often beyond their control." This statement represents a significant evolution in the fitness narrative—acknowledging that inclusion isn't about individual willpower but about dismantling structural barriers.
As This Girl Can enters its second decade, it does so with a mature perspective. The campaign that once focused primarily on body positivity now tackles the complex interplay of economic access, cultural sensitivity, and systemic exclusion. It's a reminder that belonging isn't a feeling to be manufactured but a right to be secured through tangible change.
The conversation continues at www.thisgirlcan.co.uk/jointheconversation, inviting all of us to examine how we might contribute to creating spaces where inclusion isn't aspirational but foundational.
